Moria's Revenge Rrated Repost
by Kookaburra
Summary: Co-Author: Llinos: A repost of MR with the NC-17 bits toned down. The denizens of Moria decide to take revenge on the Fellowship- by way of its littlest member. WARNING: RAPE & TORTURE - CHAPTER 43 - COMPLETED- LAST CHAPTER EVER!
1. Kidnapped

Moria's Revenge  
by Kookaburra (later chapters with Llinos)

This story is the R-rated repost of my NC-17 story. If you would like to read it in its original (and I think better) form, go to my website, Flotsam and Jetsam, at http :kookaburra. Crickhollow . net / (close up the spaces).

This version has been beta'd and material added by Marigold

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings and make no money from it Warnings: Graphic rape and torture. If this is not for you, do not read. Reviews: make the world go 'round! Any flames will be given to my dragon. Feedback: pholbytlaearthlink.net

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 1: Kidnapped

Pippin could not believe it. Time stopped, his senses were numb, and nothing mattered anymore. _Gandalf is gone_. _He's gone…dead…_ He had run like the fool the Grey Wanderer had dubbed him. He should have helped. At least he should suffer and pay for what was his fault. He was the one that had dropped the stone. He should be the one at the bottom of Khazad-Dûm.

Light! It blinded Pippin after so many days in the endless night of Moria. All Pippin had the wit to do was stagger towards the person that had been his haven in hard times for all of his young life.

_Merry._ That was the only thought he could form_. Oh, Merry, Merry, Mer, Mer...what are we going to do now?_ As he collapsed into Merry's embrace, time started again, and the full weight of what had just happened struck Pippin.

Merry held his shaking cousin, soothing and rocking him as he had done so many times in the past. Only this time he could not offer any words of support or encouragement. Pippin's choking sobs cut into his heart and he wished that he could tickle and laugh this trouble away, and tell Pippin it would be all right, but it would be a lie. Gandalf was gone forever. Gandalf, who they had known since they were just little lads.

"Shhhh...There now Pip. We have to be brave..." He tried to keep his voice steady, but it betrayed him and his grief washed over him like a tidal wave. His soft brogue dissolved into hiccupping sobs and he buried his streaming eyes in Pippin's sandy curls.

Over his own and Merry's sobs, Pippin could dimly hear Aragorn and Boromir arguing. He would have wondered about what if he had had the energy. Boromir's gentle voice broke into his thoughts.

"Come Merry, Pip. We must get moving." The man of Gondor's large hands tenderly pried them apart and lifted the two weeping hobbits to their feet. "We must get off of this mountain before dark."

0-0-0-0-0-0

The Fellowship trudged through the pine forest that blanketed the foothills of the Misty Mountains. The trees were on the smallish side, yet thick with branches and close together, so that it was necessary to walk in single file. Merry was just beginning to wonder if trees were not as bad as caves, when he heard Strider talking to Boromir.

"I know there are trails through this thicket, but I must not be burdened by our number to find one."

"Fear not Aragorn. I will keep leading the Company on an eastern tack. Should I try for that rock outcropping in the distance?" Boromir queried.

"Yes, that would be best. I should return before you reach it, but just in case... do not wait more than a day for me. Make for the woods of Lothlórien."

"Lothlórien! Aragorn..." Boromir seemed nervous. Merry wondered why.

"I know you have reservations about that place, but trust me it is for the best. Besides, I think I remember where I am; I just need to make certain. I most likely won't be gone more than two hours," Strider assured Boromir.

"Aragorn," Boromir called softly as Strider turned to leave, "be careful. I fear that the little ones would not be able to handle any more losses."

"I will, Boromir." Aragorn replied before moving off into the trees. Merry suddenly lurched forwards as Frodo blundered into him. Merry reached out and steadied his cousin. As Merry looked into Frodo's eyes, he could see the pain marring the Ring-bearer's elvish features. Wishing he could do more to ease Frodo's grief, Merry embraced him gently. Words were not necessary to convey his small offering of comfort.

Frodo could have stayed like that forever. Nothing mattered anymore anyway and he felt weary. Yet they had to move on again. At least the trek did not seem so arduous now that they had a goal to reach.

In twenty minutes time Strider rejoined them and they were all heartened to hear that they had been travelling the right direction after all. Several paths went directly past the monolith and it was easily defensible, an ideal place to spend the night. At their current pace, Strider felt they should reach it in four hours. He had also found a small game trail that seemed to be heading straight to the outcropping, so the going should be easier.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Pippin wondered why he should feel so tired. They had not gone that far, from where they had rested last night inside Moria. It was a fair distance, but not enough to account for the absolute exhaustion he felt now. The little hobbit had not experienced grief before and so was unfamiliar with its draining effect. The other members of the Fellowship had and were able to shake off enough of the fatigue to continue at a good clip. None of them noticed Pippin falling further and further behind.

Pippin looked up, and realised that none of the other members of the Fellowship were in sight. This did not immediately alarm him, as he had been losing sight of them around bends in the trail for a while. Then he started to hear noises, noises that the sounds of his comrades had covered. Noises that only a hobbit or an elf, used to walking absolutely silently, could hear.

Also...there was something else, an all too familiar smell. The smell that had permeated the chamber housing Balin's tomb, that had assaulted and gagged them throughout Khazad-Dûm! Strider's voice rang through his mind.

_"These hills will be swarming with orcs!"_

Pippin then did the only thing he could do. He panicked. Bolting like a spooked pony, he raced up the path. Unfortunately for him, he was going too fast to dodge the great dark shape that suddenly loomed out of bushes in front of him.

Pippin was unconscious before he hit the ground.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

TBC


	2. Missed

Disclaimer: I make no money from this. Wish I did, though. It would be nice to not have to eat the rats that share my cave.

This version beta'd and additional material added by Marigold

Chapter 2: Missed

As Boromir crested a rock at the base of the monolith, he allowed himself an inward sigh of relief. They had not been attacked by orcs, Aragorn had come back to lead them onward and the little ones had held together remarkably well. After he finished setting up his share of the camp, he would make sure they each had someone to stay near them through the night. He began to muse.

_Hmm... I should mention that to Aragorn now. I know he will at least get them through some of their pain at the meal. I do not think that the periannath have had much experience with the effects of bereavement and they may not want to eat. Yet they must. Especially Frodo. He lost quite a bit of weight over the past weeks. Weight he cannot afford._

Boromir finished with his bedroll and paused a moment. He was slightly higher than the rest of the Fellowship and looked down on them. Aragorn was helping Legolas unpack supplies. Gimli was stoking a small fire while Sam dug out some rations. Frodo was trying to help Merry unroll his pallet. Boromir allowed a small smile to creep across his face. No amount of his, Aragorn's, or Legolas' tutoring had been able to improve Merry's camping skill. He would always be suited to being a gentleman of leisure. Or rather a gentlehobbit.

The soldier gave a start. _Where is Pippin?_ Of all the group, he was the one that would need the most reassurance tonight. In all likelihood he blamed himself for Mithrandir's fall.

_Pip must be made to understand what danger we were in by simply deciding to go that way. How lucky we are that they did not discover us sooner, that it was just a matter of time. Besides, the orcs attacked much too soon after Pippin's stone for that to have been what alerted them to our presence! It could have been Gimli's cry, Mithrandir's light, our scent… but I do not even know if he is gone. Perhaps he had to make water._

That was another amusing thing about the halflings. Even nearly a month on the road, where privacy was nonexistent, they still maintained unnecessary modesty about natural functions. At first Boromir had felt it a bit disconcerting, as he had spent all of his life around soldiers who would likely be completely unabashed about relieving themselves in a town square. _Pippin is probably doing just that. I had better make sure, however. I do not want to take any unnecessary risks. _

Boromir picked his way down the rock and made his way over to Merry and Frodo. Frodo looked up as Boromir's shadow fell across him.

"Do you two happen to know where Pip is?" Frodo and Merry shook their heads simultaneously. Boromir felt an icy claw clutch his heart. Merry of all people should know his cousin's whereabouts. As Boromir looked into his small friend's soft brown eyes, he saw the flash of terror go through them. Merry almost made it past him in an attempt to run back into the woods and locate his misplaced cousin.

"Hold a moment, Merry." Boromir admonished. "We don't even know that he is missing. Stay here while I go and check with Aragorn." It had taken all of Boromir's control not to act just like Merry and go running off to find Pippin. The thought of anything happening to one of the sweet, innocent halflings made his breath freeze in his lungs. Boromir walked as quickly as he could without seeming too panicked, over to Aragorn and Legolas.

Aragorn glanced up from the blanket he was spreading out.

"Is something troubling you, Boromir?" Aragorn asked.

"I was just wondering if either of you know where Peregrin is?"

"I have not seen him." Legolas replied. "Perhaps Merry would know?"

"I have already questioned the halflings. Merry and Frodo do not know where he is." Boromir was sore put to keep from snapping at the elf. It was one of his worst faults. Whenever he became stressed, he got irritable.

A silence stretched between them. Boromir felt the cold panic he had fought so hard against, welling up in him. As one, all three bolted in different directions. Aragorn shouted to Gimli and Sam to gather the others. Legolas bounded up to the top of the rock to see if he could spot Pippin with his elven sight. Boromir went straight for Merry. Holding the weeping hobbit close, he crooned soft words into his small pointed ear.

"Easy there, little one. We'll find Pippin. Do not worry...shhh..." Boromir gently picked up Merry and carried him to the small fire that the others gathered around. A spirited discussion was going on between Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli in some exotic tongue. Sam and Frodo were sobbing into each other's arms. _Poor little things_, Boromir thought. _It is so hard for them to be away from their soft home and their kin. Hobbits are such social creatures, I wonder how they can bear to be away from their homeland at all._ Then Aragorn spoke.

"We have decided that Gimli and Legolas will go along our back trail to search for Peregrin. In all probability he simply got separated from us in the pine thicket."

"Do not fear, young hobbits." Said Gimli. "Master Elf and I will fetch back young Peregrin."

"We should not be gone more than a day. We will return before noon tomorrow." Legolas added.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Merry lay curled up on his bedroll. His eyes were swollen and raw from crying. First Gandalf and now Pippin. He did not think he could bear much more sorrow. _Oh, Pip. If anything happens to you, I don't know what I'll do. Please come back to me safely_. He sent his tiny prayer for Pippin's safe return to whatever gods were watching over them. He vaguely heard Legolas and Gimli saying their farewells to the rest of the company before setting off.

"Merry," Boromir's gentle voice called from somewhere above him. "Please, you must eat something."

_Sam must have finished the supper._ Merry thought. _He really is a good friend. With everything that's happened, he is still making sure we are fed. _

"I'm not hungry." Is what he said aloud. With a sigh of resignation, Boromir settled himself down on the bedroll beside Merry. Without a word, he gathered the sobbing hobbit into his arms. "Oh, Boromir," whispered Merry, "what will we do if they don't, if they don't- if..." Merry could not continue and his voice fell into hiccupping sobs.

Boromir had never felt so helpless in his life. The sight of Merry in this condition distressed him no end.

"It is not in my knowledge what we will do if Pippin is not found. Do not speak of such things until you need to, my friend. You will only upset yourself.

"Boromir?"

"Yes, little one?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"So am I, Merry. So am I." He paused. "Please Merry, will you at least eat a little stew?"

"I don't think I have the energy to." Merry's voice quavered.

"That is the grief, little one. It steals energy and the appetite you need to restore it." While he was talking Boromir shifted Merry around, so that his head rested in the crook of Boromir's arm, as if he was no more than a babe at feeding time. "You are going to eat some of this stew, even if I have to get Frodo and Sam to hold you down so I can get this spoon in your mouth." At this, Merry actually cracked a smile.

"All right, you win Boromir. I will eat."

Boromir smiled down at his young charge. _I just hope that you do not have more grief to deal with when Legolas and Gimli come back. _For despite his earlier words, in his heart Boromir felt that something awful had happened to Pippin.

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	3. Frightened

Disclaimer: Wish they were mine. But all belongs to Tolkien. If he were to read this, I am sure he would lock me in Cirith Ungol and feed Shelob the key.  
  
WARNING*WARNING*WARNING*: Degradation and graphic violence in this chapter. You will probably want to shoot me for putting poor Pippin through this. I already want to. (shoot me, that is)  
  
A/N: I am assuming that Pippin is incredibly naive. One thing that has always irked me about hobbit torture/rape/angst fics, is that they seem to know too much of what is going to happen to them. I have always seen Pip as a child, so I am going to try to portray him as a very frightened one, far from home, among vicious orcs, and with no idea what is going on. If you disagree with this, hey, tell me so. I love to hear different viewpoints.  
  
Thoughts are denoted with // as I cannot get the stupid thing to make italics.  
  
Moria's Revenge Chapter 3: Frightened  
  
Pippin felt as if he was drowning in a black pool. He hated the blackness, but dreaded what awaited him outside it. He started to rise, slowly at first, then faster and faster. He broke the surface of the pool of his unconsciousness. He immediately wished he had not. He was trussed up like a gamebird, with both hands tied behind his back, and his feet tied to his hands. Pippin's senses were still quite hazy, but he seemed to be on the ground in the middle of quite a large crowd.  
  
Pippin kept his eyes shut, recalling one of Boromir's lessons:  
  
// "Before you give any indication that you are awake, always gather your senses, figure out or remember where you are. Find out as much as you can about your surroundings, and most importantly, whether you are alone."// Pippin listened as hard as he could, and forced his muddled brain to concentrate.  
  
Many noises surrounded him. Mostly growlings and gruntings, but the more Pippin listened, the more sense the cacophony made.  
  
Then his nose started working again. //That smell!// The foul orc stench hit him. //They must be all around me! What do they want with me? Why hasn't anyone come to get me? Oh, please, please, please, somebody come for me!// A horrid thought struck Pippin. //What if they don't care? Why should they care? I'm the one who killed Gandalf! I deserve whatever happens to me...// At these thoughts, Pippin could no longer keep himself under control. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks.  
  
"Well, well, well," boomed a gravelly voice above him, "it seems our little rat has come to its senses. Open yer eyes, ya filthy little maggot! I know yer awake!" An iron shod foot dug cruelly into Pippin's side. With an undignified yelp he opened his eyes.  
  
Orcs. They were everywhere. They were all around him. All looking at him. All laughing at him.  
  
"He squeaks just like a little mouse!"  
  
"He should. Hardly bigger than one."  
  
"Wonder why the pushdug-skai who had 'im brought those little rodents along?"  
  
"Har, har, har! I think you know very well why, Oidit! Them's pretty and waist high! Great combination! Har!"  
  
Pippin had no idea what they were talking about, but the way they were all looking at him made him feel as if he were just a piece of flesh for them to devour. //That IS what I am.// He thought miserably. //I deserve whatever I get. I guess this is the gods' punishment on me for murdering Gandalf.// But he did wish that he could see Merry one last time. To tell him good bye, and have him tell the others how sorry he was about Gandalf, that it was better this way. Then he would not have to face the guilt that ate at him every waking moment, and no few sleeping ones either.  
  
"C'mon, Maggot!" The gravelly voice was back. "Get on yer feet! You ain't no fun groveling in the dirt!" At this, a huge filthy hand grabbed Pippin by his curls and heaved him up. The orc cut the bonds that connected Pip's hands to his feet, and then the cords wrapped around his wrists and ankles. The hand twisted him around, until he was looking into its owner's face. The cat-slit eyes held no pity in them, and the filthy, mottled skin made Pippin's stomach turn."I've got something that'll perk you up, worm!" The orc thrust the neck of a small flask between Pippin's lips. The drink burned like fire going down his throat.  
  
Pippin needed to breathe, but the orc would not let him. He kept tilting the flask up, forcing Pippin to work to swallow every drop. Then he noticed that the orcs seemed to find this amusing, and were jabbing each other in the ribs and pointing, as if they were having a private joke.  
  
"Har! Mighty useful lips the rat has, don't it!" One orc bellowed. The others found this hilarious, but Pippin was concentrating on not blacking out again from lack of air. When the orc released him, he fell to his knees, choking and spluttering.  
  
"We 'ad better get goin' lads! Youse can 'ave yer fun later." Said a new voice.  
  
"Oh ho!" Exclaimed the orc the others called Oidit. "Right, Risknar! After the chief 'as 'ad 'is way with it! Why don't we just soften it up a little fer 'im! Har! 'Sides, the chief said we could 'have some sport wi' it!"  
  
"'e didn't mean that kind 'o sport, an' yer knows it!" Risknar countered. "If'n 'e not untouched when 'e gets to the chief's chambers, it'll be our necks!"  
  
"Naw," another orc joined in, "it'll be yer position, 'Cap'n'. It'll go to Grishnakh! We're just common goblins, 'oo don' know our 'heads from our arses, an' can't be expected to be in control of our lusts! Yer the one as supposed to keep us in line!" A whip crack sounded. An orc screamed.  
  
"Now, listen up lads! Youse can play wi' it a bitsy, but none 'o that! It WILL be our necks, an' don' you think otherwise!"  
  
//Play with me?// Pippin thought, //what are they going to do to me? Oh, please, please, someone help me! Please please...// He concentrated so hard that he started to say the words out loud in a weak voice.  
  
"Please, please..."  
  
"Oy, lads! It don't want to play wi' us!"  
  
" 'ere, give me some 'o that there rope! We'll make it play!" Pippin was heaved roughly to his feet once more, and a rope was tied so tight around his wrists that it cut into his flesh. Pippin could not control his weeping, and began to heave sobs in his pain and fear. Next a blindfold was tied around his head. //What are they doing? Can't see, don't know, help! Need to see, can't see...// Pippin's thought ran around in circles like a bug caught in a jar. A shove from behind sent him stumbling forwards. Strong hoary claws caught him, and pushed him another direction. He became thoroughly disoriented, and could barely keep his feet, but every time he thought he might stable himself, another shove sent him reeling. Finally, stumbling forwards, he tripped over an outstretched foot, and hit the ground hard. The orcas guffawed even more loudly at this. Pippin curled up into a ball, sobbing softly with the humiliation of it all.  
  
Suddenly a foot kicked him hard in the ribs, sending him flying through the air, to hit a large rock several feet away.  
  
"Gerrup, maggot! We ain't nearly done wi' you yet!" Pippin was trembling in pain and fear, yet managed to get his feet under himself.  
  
"Please," he whimpered "no more. Please, you're hurting me, ple-" The rest was cut off sharply as his feet were knocked out from under him again. A large hand pressed on the back of his head, and ground his face into the dirt.  
  
"Did anyone give you leave to speak? Eh?" Pippin shook his head weakly. The orc jerked his face up and screamed at him from only inches away. "SO DON'T MAKE A SOUND UNLESS WE TELL YOU TO, WRETCH! UNDERSTAND?" This scared Pippin so that he was frozen with fear. "I SAID, 'DO YOU UNDERSTAND!'" the orc shook Pippin until his brain rattled. When he stopped Pip barely had the wit to nod. "Har," sneered the voice, "tha's better! Now, youse just do exactly as we tell you an' we might jus' let yer go. But if'n yer bad, we can't help what you force us to do." The orc was deviously giving Pippin a reason to think that the torture was all his fault, and that he deserved it. They knew that the mental anguish the small hobbit would put him self through was more painful than anything they could devise.  
  
Pippin was in more pain, and more humiliated than he could ever remember. He bit his lip to stifle his cries, but he could not keep from shaking in fear, or keep the tears back.  
  
"'ere, Lugsta! Let's see 'ow our little wench would look wi' some purty stripes! Har, har!" This joke was one Pippin understood all too well. //Oh no, please, not that anything but that...// He was lifted and lain on his back on the rock, arms and legs pinned down.  
  
"I'll allow this, lads. But don't be getting carried away. 'e's still got to be in one piece when the cheif gets 'im!" Captain Risknar warned.  
  
"Heh, heh, then it'll be your problem, won't it Cap'n?" The orc above Pippin countered. Pippin felt the large claws pulling at his scarf. The scarf Merry gave to him. The scarf that, when he breathed very deeply, still had his cousin's familiar smell on it. Piipin panicked. They couldn't take Merry's scarf away from him! With a speed and force he did not know he possessed, Pippin wrenched his right arm from the orc holding him down and latched on to the scarf.  
  
"NO! This is Merry's notthisnotthisno-" A cuff to his head silenced him, but he still held on to the knit garment.  
  
"QUIET!" The orc shook the scarf, trying to dislodge Pippin.  
  
"Let 'im 'ave it, Crugsyl! It may come in handy later." Lugsta said.  
  
"If the chief gets 'im there won't be a later!" retorted Crugsyl.  
  
"No, but there'll be a later AFORE the chief get it!" Pippin simply buried his head in the soft folds of wool, breathing in Merry's scent and muffling his sobs.  
  
"Whatever. Don' matter ter me." Pippin kept tight hold on his scarf as rough claws undid the buttons on his waist coat. The orcs could not get it off off him while he was clutching the scarf, so one simply used knife to cut the sleeves. As Pippin heard the tearing cloth, he thought, //mother made that.// There was much whistling and cat calls as his shirt was pulled off. Pippin just held on to the scarf tighter.  
  
The orcs flipped him over onto his stomach, so that his feet dangled over the stone.  
  
" 'oo gets to do the 'onors?" an orc called.  
  
"I does, see? It's my whip no how." one replied. There were some shouts of protest at this, but Captain Risknar upheld the orcs' claim. Pippin quivered with anticipation as he heard the step of the orc behind him //please don't let this hurt too much// The whip drew slowly across his back, almost as a caress. //oh, Merry, come for me, please Boromir anybody just let this stop// The whip swished through the air and scored his back. Pippin screamed into the scarf. This had to be the most painful thing ever devised for torment. //ohhhh MERRY!// His mind screamed. The scourge descended again. Pippin could dimly hear his own cries and the laughter of the orcs. //I shouldn't wish for rescue, it's my own fault I'm here, it's my fault Gandalf died// *CRACK* Another lash. Another scream. More laughs. Pippin was descending back into the black pool. He felt the fire lick his back again, but he couldn't hear any more screams or laughter. The blackness had almost engulfed him.  
  
He was jerked to wakefulness by cold water. The orcs had taken a bucket and emtied its contents into his face. He was lying on his back on the ground. The weals were on fire again, with dirt being ground into them. He started to scream again.  
  
"Quiet!" A foot kicked his side. Pippin bit his lip so hard it bled to keep from crying out. He had never felt so helpless or worthless in all of his life. The blindfold was ripped from his face, and he squinted against the sudden light. As his eyes adjusted, he saw a circled of horrible orc faces leering down at him, backdropped by the sunset sky.  
  
"Alright, lads, ye'hve 'ad yer fun. We've got ter be off!" Captain Risknar called from a short distance. Pippin saw several of the orcs give each other knowing looks.  
  
"Says 'oo?"  
  
"What so you mean, 'says who?' I say, yer son of a warg! I'm yer cap'n!"  
  
"Yer not our cap'n if'n we don't say you are!"  
  
"What! This is mutiny! When the cheif 'ears abou' this..."  
  
"Well, the cheif ain't gonna 'ear abou' this!"  
  
"He will if'n I tell 'im!"  
  
"'Oo says yer goin ter tell'im?" "Yeah cap'n! Yer outnumbered!"  
  
"You filthy backstabbers!" There was the sound of metal an metal, and then a cry followed by a 'whump'. Pippin realized his only protector had just died. //What's going to happen to me now? Whatever it is, it can't possibly be worse than the flogging.// Pippin did not know how wrong he was.  
  
*A/N: if you have a review for me (holds out collecting tin hopefully) and FF.net won't let you post it, you can send it to me at p_holbytla@earthlink.net *PLEASE* you don't know how much this means to me! Even if it's to tell me that I'm a psychotic b**ch for writing this piece of fecal matter. I WANT YOUR OPINION!  
  
***  
  
|Reviewer |Date |Chapter |Type | | |2002-09-01 |3 |Anonymous | |This story could | | | | |be good, but is | | | | |unreadable due to| | | | |the fact that you| | | | |refuse to | | | | |seperate your | | | | |paragraphs! | | | | |Please fix! | | | | | |2002-09-01 |3 |Signed | |Dimple Boffin | | | | |(aka | | | | |Chameleon | | | | |Kookaburra, I am | | | | |*so* sorry I | | | | |mis-spelled your | | | | |name in my review| | | | |of chapter 26. | | | | |Sorry about | | | | |that! | | | | | |2002-08-23 |3 |Signed | |Blue Jedi Hobbit | | | | |009 | | | | |Hmmmmmmm... | | | | |interesting. I | | | | |havne't seen your| | | | |Pippin-theory | | | | |thing-y in any | | | | |other story, but | | | | |it's interesting.| | | | |I could honestly | | | | |go either way. | | | | |But, really, I do| | | | |think orcs are | | | | |more intelligent | | | | |than there made | | | | |out to be. Don't | | | | |ask me why; I | | | | |just do... | | | | | |2002-08-17 |3 |Signed | |ShireMaidens | | | | |oh wow this is so| | | | |dark.... and so | | | | |sad.... my poor | | | | |Pip. i will | | | | |rescue him if no | | | | |one else will....| | | | |*runs off to save| | | | |her pippin* | | | | | | | | | |Good story. nice | | | | |plot line and i | | | | |love how Pip | | | | |feels that its | | | | |all his fault | | | | |that gandalf is | | | | |dead. its a good | | | | |read and i look | | | | |forword to | | | | |reading more. | | | | | | | | | |Namarie | | | | | | | | | |Beth, the crazy | | | | |half of the | | | | |Shiremaidens | | | | | |2002-07-23 |3 |Anonymous | |Mistoffelees | | | | |(lia_parisi@hotma| | | | |il.com) | | | | |(Don't mind my | | | | |last review, I | | | | |thought I | | | | |submitted it | | | | |twice..) | | | | |~gets strange | | | | |tingly, familiar | | | | |feeling that she | | | | |doesn't like~ You| | | | |are *horrible*! | | | | |HORRIBLE! BAH! I | | | | |HATE YOU! No, | | | | |just kidding. | | | | |~drops penny in | | | | |collection tin~ | | | | |That was..wow. | | | | |~shudders~ I | | | | |can't say | | | | |anything | | | | |else..poor | | | | |Pippin...a | | | | |flogging..oh | | | | |Valar.. | | | | | |2002-07-13 |3 |Signed | |hey finally got a| | | | |review thing | | | | |up!!!keep it up | | | | |or i'll ahve to | | | | |kill u..but then | | | | |u'll never carry | | | | |on..what a | | | | |disaster!! | | | | | |2002-07-11 |3 |Signed | |Phoebe | | | | |Well,I can see | | | | |where this is | | | | |going. So far it | | | | |has been | | | | |wonderfully | | | | |written and I | | | | |felt so sorry for| | | | |poor lil Pip. I | | | | |usually do not | | | | |read fics like | | | | |these, so I | | | | |really do not | | | | |know how to | | | | |comment it... | | | | | |2002-06-30 |3 |Signed | |shirebound | | | | |Hope the reviews | | | | |are going | | | | |through! This is | | | | |really exciting, | | | | |poor Pippin! The | | | | |characters | | | | |(especially the | | | | |orcs) seem very | | | | |realistic. | | | | |Looking forward | | | | |to more. | | | | | |2002-06-30 |3 |Signed | |Llinos | | | | |This is getting | | | | |scarier and I | | | | |found myself | | | | |holding my breath| | | | |as I read. Your | | | | |orcs are very | | | | |well written (not| | | | |easy writing orcs| | | | |as I discovered | | | | |to my cost!) I | | | | |agree with you | | | | |about Pippin's | | | | |innocence and you| | | | |portray it very | | | | |well. Carry on | | | | |like this and | | | | |soon please. What| | | | |are the others | | | | |doing - looking | | | | |very hard I hope!| | | | |If they don't | | | | |find him soon I | | | | |may have to send | | | | |Smagnu over to | | | | |get him :-)! | | | | 


	4. Worried

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 4: Worried  
  
Disclaimer: I wish.  
  
A/N: I would like to thank Pip Morgan and Race Skylark for beta-ing this for me. She is a God-sent sounding board for my weird ideas, and helps me make comprehensible sentences while still making them say what I want.  
  
**** Merry ran through the pine trees. His heart hammered in his chest. Ahead of him, he could catch glimpses of his elusive cousin and hear snatches of cheerful laughter as they played a game of chase. Yet no matter how hard Merry tried, he could not get any closer to Pippin. He felt a sense of forboding, he knew that something terrible would happen if he did not find Pip. Then the carefree sounds of mirth his cousin had been making changed. Merry heard soft sobbing echoing back to him. //I have to find Pip!// Merry was now aware of another prescence, another entity that also hunted his cousin, but with almost tangible malice rather than Merry's loving concern. And it was fast. Faster than Merry, who was sinking into the snow, unable to move faster than a crawl, now unable to move at all. A shreik ripped through the forest.  
  
"MERRY! HELP ME, PLEASE! PLEASE! PLE-"  
  
"....please, Meriadoc, wake up. Come along, little one, open your eyes..." Merry's eyes snapped open. Strider loomed above him, shaking his shoulder gently.  
  
"Strider! Pippin! Have Legolas and Gimli..." Strider shook his head sadly.  
  
"No, Merry. They they have not returned. I woke you up to spare you from whatever torment the dream world had devised for you. You were yelling loud enough for Elrond back in Rivendell to hear you!" Merry looked around himself for the first time, and saw that Frodo, Sam, and Boromir were all staring at him with concern from around the camfire that kept the night's shadow at bay.  
  
"I- I'm sorry for bothering you. It was just a nightmare." Merry rolled away from Strider. He did not feel like talking to anyone at the moment. How could they understand what he was going through? Strider was always scolding Pippin for one thing or another, Sam was just Frodo's servant, Frodo was Pippin's friend, but lacked the bond that Merry shared with his young cousin, and Boromir... well, Boromir might understand. He had been a great friend to the two youngest members of the Fellowship, and had never raised his voice to either of them, except in play.  
  
"It was not 'just a nightmare' Meriadoc. Don't think that we don't know what you're suffering right now. We all loved Pippin..."'  
  
"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT HIM THAT WAY!" Merry yelled at Aragorn. Frodo, Sam and Boromir immediately rose from their places and were by his side in an instant. "Pippin's not dead yet, so don't refer to him like he is gone forever." Merry added quietly.  
  
"Oh, Merry." Aragorn pulled the sobbing hobbit to him as he realized what he had just said. "I am sorry, I really did not mean..."  
  
"I know you did'n mean anything by it, Strider. I'm sorry for getting upset..." "No, little one, you have nothing to be sorry about." Aragorn assured him. Frodo leaned over and hugged Merry tightly.  
  
"I know it's hard for you, Merry-dear. It's hard for all of us. But you need your rest. Staying awake fretting about Pip isn't going to make him come back any faster."  
  
"Let's all get some rest, Mister Merry. It's gettin' to be right late, and we'll be needin' our energy on the morrow." Sam added. Merry looked as if he wanted to retort, but a wide yawn cut him off. Aragorn chuckled.  
  
"It seems that you cannot even convince yourself that you are not sleepy, Meriadoc." Then he said to Boromir, "I will take first watch. You get some sleep too." In a lower voice so the hobbits would not hear he added, "Stay close Boromir. I have a feeling that there will be some more bad dreams to deal with tonight." Boromir nodded gravely and took Merry from Aragorn. He settled himself on the bedroll, with Merry's head on his chest.  
  
Merry listened to Boromir's strong heartbeat. It made him feel safe, knowing that nothing could touch him. A stab of guilt pierced his mind. Because Boromir was with him, it meant that The Tirithean was not with Pip. Pip who really needed him. Pip who was lost somewhere in the wild, with naught but an incredibly tiny sword between him and the terrors of the night. Merry's disturbing train of thought was cut short by a movement at his back. Frodo plopped himself beside Merry and snuggled into his cousin.  
  
Boromir watched the halflings in bemusement. What were they doing? his question was soon answered as Sam joined the pile by wrapping Boromir's free arm around himself, and instantly falling asleep. //Oh well. At least I will know if one of them is disturbed by a nightmare.// So, with his arms full of hobbits, Boromir drifted off to sleep.  
  
Aragorn gazed down on the quartet sadly. He wished with all of his heart that he could do something to bring Pippin back. There was so much he needed to say. After the fall of Gandalf, he swore to himself that he would never put off conversations that needed to be had. And now he realized that one of those conversations was with Pippin. //You most likely think I hated you, Peregrin. I know I was short with you, sometimes, and that your innocence was largely wasted on me, but oh, I promise that if you are returned with your naivete and youth intact, I will appreciate it.//  
  
*** Gimli followed about three paces behind Legolas. //Fool elf. If he does not look up from the backtrail soon, he is going to run into a tree.// Legolas did not look up, and as the dwarf had predicted, his shoulder hit a fir with a loud thud. Gimli hid his smirk as the sounds of muffled cursing drifted back to him. //I should not be getting as much enjoyment out of this as I am.// Gimli thought. //But that elf needs to admit that he is forming personal attachments to members of 'lesser' races. Even if he denies it to himself, he is very worried about Pippin. Dragon's Teeth, I'M worried about that rascal, this quest would have been unbearably serious if not for the young hobbits' enthusiasm. "The doom of all races" be damned, I'm not going to give up on Pippin until he is either found or avenged!//  
  
By this time the two trackers had reached the pine thicket, and Gimli had to close the gap between himself and Legolas in order to keep together. Legolas was lost in his own musings. //I do hope that Pippin is in here somewhere. It would not be at all hard to get lost in this tangle, and Pip is such a small thing that his head would barely clear the undergrowth.// The thought of Pippin wandering around lost, and likely thinking that the others had aboandoned him pained the elf more than he wanted to concede. His heart twisted every time he thought of it. //This is shameful for a prince of the Greenwood. It is shameful for any elf. It will only have been for a few hours, mere moments compared to my lifetime, and Pippin will soon forget his fear when you find him.// But even with these thoughts, the elf could not assure himself. He still felt for Pippin, and wished he could take away the little one's fear by finding him.  
  
Legolas stopped so suddenly that Gimli ran into him. After straightening themselves out, Legolas pointed to a patch of ground a few feet ahead. The ground was clearly churned up, as if a struggle had taken place, and although Gimli's senses could not detect it, Legolas could smell the distinct tang of blood, fear, and (he shuddered) orc. Things were certainly not looking well for Pippin.  
  
Gimli started to survey the area. he pointed out to Legolas a clear trail of iron shod footprints leading south.  
  
"...and see how the plants are flattened, Master Elf? It would appear that something was dragged away."  
  
"My heart is troubled by this, Master Dwarf. It seems I should have been keeping a closer eye on our young charge."  
  
"Do not fault yourself, the blame is on all of us." Gimli was rather suprised. //Just when you think you've heard it all...an elf admitting an error! Gloin will get a kick out of this when I get back.// "But," Gimli added, "we will not get nearer to rescuing young Peregrin by dwelling on our oversights. What is our course of action? Do we go back to the others? Do we go on in hopes of finding the orcs that took him? For although it would be more prudent to go against the abductors with a greater force, my mind chafes at the thought of the trail going cold. It is already early evening. I think we have until daybreak tomorrow before we must head back to meet the others in time for noon tomorrow."  
  
"I agree, Ma- Gimli." Legolas corrected himself. He was grudginglly coming to respect the dwarf, and 'Master Dwarf' was beginning to strike him as slightly mocking. "but let us follow the trail until we find what has become of Pippin. A few might go unoticed where our comany would be soon found out." So the pair headed off south, following what they believed to be the trail of Pippin and his captors.  
  
~~~~ 


	5. Shamed

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 5: Shamed

Diclaimer: *sniff* it's not mine *sob* Tolkien owns everything! *WHAAAAAHHH!*

WARNING! Rape and torture in this chapter! Do NOT say I didn't warn you! It's nassssty orcssses hurting poor prrrecssssioussss Pipssses. *grrrrr*

*******

Pippin trembled on the ground. Orc faces were all around him, their pointed teeth bared in hideous grins. //Why do they want me? What are they going to do? Please just make it stop!// Pippin had no idea what more the orcs could do to him, the lashing had been painful enough, and he had never heard of anything else.

"C'mon lads!" Said Lugsta. Let's hobble up our little pony so's it can't run off!" The orc finally manged to take Merry's scarf away from Pippin, and used it to secure his bound hands to the rock. Pippin was now on his back with his hands above his head, draped over the stone, and comletely helpless. Fresh tears started down his cheeks.

"Har, little pony! Youse knows what's gonna happen ter you, doncha!" Crugsyl was suprised when Pippin shook his head slightly, as he was still scared into silence by the orc's earlier threats.

"Garn, ain't 'e an innocent one, eh, Crugsyl?" another orc commented.

"Should we tell it? Har, har, don' know if it would understand any of it, nohow!" Lugsta looked down at Pippin's small body in a way that gave the frightened hobbit shivers. //Why is he looking like that, what IS 'like that', oh help me Merry, come, please, no don't, I'm not fit to be with you or the Fellowship...// Crugsyl spoke again, this time directly to Pippin.

"So, you don' know what we gonna do? Hmmm? P'raps you'd like a chance to keep us from doing it?" Pippin nodded his head vigorously. "Har, har, but if'n you doesn't try your hardest, I can't guarantee what me an' the lads 'll 'ave ter do!" Pippin simply stared up at him with fear in his wide, guileless eyes.

"I-I'll do whatever you w-w-want M-M-Mister, er orc. P-Please just let me go." Pippin whispered. His throat was too raw from his earlier screams to produce any louder sounds. //no, fool of a took! you shouldn't let yourself off this easy, this is your fault, it's only fair for killing Gandalf...// Crugsyl grabbed Pippin and untied him from the rock, shoving him to his knees in front of the other orcs.

"Now," said Crugsyl, "beg." Pippin looked up at him in confusion. "You heard me, rat! Beg for us to stop! If'n ya don' beg hard enou', I can't be responsible for what these lads'll do ter ya!" Pippin threw himself to the ground at Crugsyl's feet.

"Oh, please, let me go, please, I just want to go home, don't do this to me, it hurts please..." The orcs all pointed and laughed at the tiny form, abasing itself before them. One gave Pippin a sharp kick in the ribs.

"You'll 'ave ter do better'n that, pony! 'ere lads! let's see what we'll miss if'n we let it go!" The orc that had spoken picked up Pippin's protesting body, and held him while another pulled his breeches free. They then dropped Pippin unceremoniously to the ground, where he huddled, shivering from cold and shame. he watched helplessly as the orcs went through his things, looking for items to pillage. One orc took out his pouch of pipeweed.

"Hoy! Look at what I've found, lads! P'raps we should introduce it ter some stronger varieties, eh?" A chorus of laughter met this remark.

"Aye, it might be fun," Lugsta replied, but I want it ter be completely aware for it's 'first time', if'n youse get me meaning!" Harsh calls of agreement answered this. Pippin just lay on the ground, trying to make himself as small as possible. //don't see me I'm not here, this is all just a dream, someone will come for me, WHAT are they talking about, oh, I just want home, I want mama and papa, even Pervinca, just let this stop...//

"Our little pony 'as stopped it's whinnyin'! Think it actually wants ter go fer a ride?" A harsh voice cut into Pippin's thoughts.

"No! please..." he gasped, "I'm not worth it, I'm not worth anything, please..."

"Too late, little rat!" Crugsyl hauled him up. "Yeh've not tried hard enough, an' we can't do nought about it. You shoulda tried harder! Pippin hated himself Why was he so helpless? Why had he not tried harder? Crugsyl's large hand covered Pippin's bare upper arms, and the little hobbit was suddenly aware of how much power was held in those hands. The orc could crush him like a bug if he wanted. //that's what I am, a bug. not worth anyone's time!// The large orc picked him up and dangled him from his still tied wrists. The knot was tied in such a way that the more tension was placed on it, the tighter it became.

The other orcs hooted and whistled at Pippin's naked form. Pippin felt so exposed and ashamed, that he wished no one would rescue him, and see him like that.

"All right, boys! Wanna grab some feels afore we gets down ter business?" The roars of the other orcs were deafening. Crugsyl tossed Pippin to his comrades, //Oh, why why why didn't I beg harder...// Filthy hands caught him. What followed next was more horrible than anything that had happened before.

The claws were all over him, touching him everywhere, leaving him no place to call his own. He sobbed in fear and despair. //nononono don't touch me there, please just leave me alone, no...// he felt as if the orcs were smothering him, pressing in from all sides. He was jerked back and forth several times, as differnent orcs wanted him simultaneously. His legs were forced open, and strong dirty hands fondled him, causing unbeliveable humiliation. He shut his eyes, and tried to think of other things //Merry... no, not Merry, won't bring him near this...// Then a pair of all too familiar hands grabbed him.

"Aw, c'mon Crugsyl! We was just gettin' warmed up!"

"Well, it's warmed up enough, I sez! We only got ternight, an' I can't wait nomore!" Crugsyl retorted.

"Hey! Yer goin' ter take the first turn, aincha? Why do you get it?"

"'Cause I'm the one as killed Risknar, see? An' I can kill you! Sides,as this is it's first time, it won't matter 'oo goes first, it'll all be first for it see?" As this was a rather convoluted arguement, Crugsyl took advantage of the other orcs' confusion and dragged Pippin to the rock, this time tying him face down.

"'ere, boys! 'old the pony still!" Pippin bit his lip again to keep from crying out in fear as swarthy hands gripped his arms and legs, making him even more helpless. Pippin's tears rolled down his cheeks freely. He was almost wishing that he was back being touched by the orcs, instead of here about to have whatever Crugsyl was planning done to him. He whimpered softly.

Crugsyl heard the small noise and felt himself harden. He was in complete control of this tiny creature's life or death. It was the most satisfying feeling on Middle-earth. Positioning himself behind Pippin he leaned forwards and whispered into his ear.

"I'm gonna give yer one last chance. If'n yer try very hard, p'raps I'll stop!" Pippin began to cry louder and plead with the orc to just let him go. Pippin's cruel tormentor chuckled. The little insect still actually believed that he might let it go!

Pippin's face was being rubbed in the dirt by the orc that was holding him down. It smelled horrible. He could sense some movement behind him. Then a cold, greasy claw began to stroke his back, then down his legs, and finally up his thighs. Pippin's body trembled in anticipation, but Pippin did not know for what.

Crugsyl drew back for a last look at Pippin's unspoiled body. Then he began.

****

"Ah, yer a good little lay! Har!" Crugsyl rose from his knees, his loathsome weight finally leaving Pippin's back. "Who's next?" He laughed. "Which 'o you lads is next? Rat's good as a wench!" There was an immediate press towards Pippin, as seeing Crugsyl ravish him had stoked their own lusts. Pippin merely lay still, in a state of shock from what had just happened. Then another weight pressed down on him. He whimpered again. //not again, please no, I can't live through another one, please, I'm going to die...//

"Har! Giddyap, Pony!" Bellowed the orc behind him. Soon his world narrowed to the searing pain. He blacked out several times, but whenever he woke up, he was still in hell.

Finally, he became aware that there was not any orc using him. He was left alone for the moment. The small part of his mind that had been pleading for salvation seemed to have been silenced. He did not want any of his friends to see him like this, or to know what had happened to him. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, but he had no strength to make any sound.

"Oy, Lugsta! Yeh've not gone for a ride yet! Why don' ya take a turn?" Pippin trembled.

"Ah, I've just been a-wonderin' if'n I shouldn' take a look in our little horsey's mouth, eh lads?"

Pippin would have vomited if he had any food in his stomach. Instead he dryheaved around the orc. He was already semiconcious from lack of air. But then Lugsta withdrew, and the hands holding him let go, and he fell to the ground, a broken toy to be discarded.

Pippin whimpered and tried to crawl away, his mouth hanging open with semen and blood dripping from it and his backside. He could not move his legs, but using his tied hands (still bound with Merry's scarf) he pulled himself forwards a few fingerlengths at a time. The orcs stood around him and guffawed at his tenacity, but soon he had no more strength to move, and he lay still.

"'ere, Crugsyl. We'd best get a goin'. It's almost daylight."

"Aye, an' we don' want no searchers from it's group comin' after it neither."

"Oh, yer won't have ter worry abou' them's as were with it. Me an' Oidit laid out a right purty false trail fer them ter follow!"

"Yeah, an' youse gone an' drug me fer no few miles ter do it!" the other orcs found this very amusing. "What should we do wi' it's clothes?" An orc gestured to the now very dirty pile of garments that in a heap. They were even more soiled than they had been, as several of the orcs had used them to wipe themselves off after raping Pippin.

"Leave 'em. You villyuns 've got everythin' out 'o 'em." Pippin was picked up and set on his feet, but fell down again. The orcs gave him another swig from the flask, and though it burned his raw throat horribly, he felt some strength returning to him. It was not enough for him to walk, or make him care about what was going to happen to him. Crugsyl unwrapped the scarf from around his wrists and replaced it with a thin cord that cut into his flesh. Pippin opened his mouth and exhaled sharply, a silent cry. One end of the scarf was tied around his neck, and Crugsyl took the other end in his claw.

"Come along, Pony!" Crugsyl jerked on the scarf and, nearly choking, Pippin was flung forwards a few paces. The orcs set off, dragging Pippin, down a narrow path between the rocks. Often one would come up beside him and give him a boot to the ribs or groin. Finally Crugsyl picked him up. "Now, lads, let's not 'ave ye tirin' yerselfs out. We've got a full day of cave patrol when we gets back, and yer knows it!" After climbing up a small hill side, the troop came to the yawning mouth of a cave. Just before the black opening engulfed him, Pippin looked back. The dawn was just breaking.

*** A/N: You guys are all so kind, wonderful and SWEET! *winks at Niere*


	6. Defeated

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 6 Defeated  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am the crud that JRRT scrapes off the bottom of his shoes.  
  
The two trackers had been following the trail of crushed vegetation for about an hour. Something about the track bothered Gimli, yet he could not pinpoint what was causing him to become uneasy. //It is too simple. Orcs may be viler than a dragon's cesspit, but they are not stupid. They would have made certain to cover their tracks. And, now that I think of it, this is not *going* anywhere. It is meandering, not making for any specific point!//  
  
"M- Legolas." Legolas started at the sound of his given name. he turned to look at Gimli. "I believe we have been fooled."  
  
***  
  
It had taken them less time to go back to the original track, as they were both running, and knew where they were going. This time, after a careful search of the entire area, Gimli spotted a track, very faint, that had been concealed cleverly. A great number of orcs, twenty at least, had passed through though, by the signs. It was now about midnight, and the moon had just cleared the eastern horizon, turning the forest into a world of silvery shadows. The light the moon gave was just sufficient for following the slight marks. As they slowly made their way north, Legolas could not help thinking about how the same moon was shining down on Pippin, wherever he was, or whatever was happening to him.  
  
***  
  
After hours of trudging, Gimli noticed that he could see the ground ahead of him a little more clearly. He raised his head and looked through the branches at the sky. False dawn was coloring the sky a dirty grey. His heart despaired of finding Pippin. //Poor young hobbit. I never thought I would think this, but curse the sun! The orcs that have him are probably going to retreat to their caves at dawn, and if they take him with them...// Gimli shuddered. If that happened, it was unlikely that young Peregrin would ever see sunlight again.  
  
Legolas gave a small cry ahead of him. The elf had just passed through a narrow gap between two rock walls about one and a half man lengths tall. Gimli rushed forward, certain that some sort of ambush had befallen his tracking-mate. Legolas stood in the circle of rocks, motionless. A medium sized stone was on the exact middle. The first thing Gimli noticed was the smell. The dell was choked with the noisome reek of orcs. The dwarf took a closer look around. The stone in the middle cought his eye, and he realized what had made Legolas cry out. Cords lay in a tangle at the base of the rock, and even from several yards away, Gimli could see dark stains on the rock, stains he would have bet the Arkenstone were blood.  
  
In a few short strides Legolas went over to the stone and knelt down to examine it more carefully. In doing so, he placed his hand on the rock. Instantly he jerked it back. His lips curled in disgust. A gooey congealed opaque *something* was all over the rock. And Legolas had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was. //Don't panic. The last thing you should do is panic. Pippin REALLY needs you right now. I know what you have on your hand is truly revolting, but do not worry you will be able to wash it off, but first make sure...// he lifted his fingers to his sensitive elf nose. Yes, he had been right. It was orc spill and that could only mean one thing. //Oh,// The full implication hit him.//Pippin! Poor little child. That's what he is, a small frightened child, that has no glimmer of understanding about the horrors that can be inflicted on one.//  
  
"What is it?" Gimli came up behind him. "Legolas heard the sharp intake of breath when the dwarf saw what covered the rock and Legolas' fingers. A growl grew in the normally sanguine dwarf. "When I get my axe near the ones who did this!" He was too overcome by rage and grief to speak. Gandalf and now Pippin, both lost to the horrors that had been awakened by his people in the mountains. Guilt washed over him. He felt the elf's soothing hand (the unspoiled one) squeeze his shoulder. Gloin had been right. There was something about elves that when you were near them, your troubles seemed farther away.  
  
"As much as I hate to say this, I do not believe it would be wise to pursue the orcs further without the company." Legolas said.  
  
"Especially after we promised to be back with news by noon today. Gimli looked up at the sun which was just peeking over the horizon. Through the morning mists he could just make out the large outcropping that Aragorn and the others were waiting by. "I think we can make it if we set a good pace. //Just to think, Pippin could have looked right at us while...this was happening last night.// Then his eyes caught what seemed to be a small bundle in the shadows. His heart gave a leap. Pippin? But as the sun rose higher, the shadows drew back, and he saw that it really was a bundle of dirty rags. //But wait. Rags?// He walked quickly to the pile. They were Pippin's clothes! How many other small people would wear a coat that loud of a turquoise in the wilderness? It was proof that Pippin had been here. But as he lowered himself by the clothes, the stench redoubled. Gingerly he picked up the worn cloak. It had patches of blood and congealed orc spill as well. //By the Valar! Did they leave nothing to him?// Legolas joined him.  
  
"I do not relish telling the others of little Peregrin. I also fear for the hobbits' sanity. They are not used to such things. I doubt they even know horrors like this exist."  
  
"Aye, Legolas. But we must."  
  
"Aye."  
  
***  
  
At midmorning they found a small limestone quarry with several hot springs. There they paused to clean their hands and Pippin's clothes of the orc's filth. It was just noontide when they trudged with their sad burden into the camp.  
  
Boromir had been troubled by how long it took Legolas and Gimli to return. The chances of them finding Pippin at just the right time for them to head back and make the uleimatun seemed very small. And one look at their faces confirmed his worst fears. A strangled sob sounded by his side. Merry's small body struck Boromir with a suprising amount of force, and started shaking with violent weeping. Boromir had been up on watch while Aragorn got some sleep, and as a result, had become the hobbits' main source of comfort, as he had been awake when they were.  
  
Frodo came up to Merry, and wrapped his arms around his distrought cousin. Both hobbits huddled against Boromir. Boromir's heart ached at the agony the little ones were going through. He looked over to Aragorn, who had just sat up from him bedroll, and was walking towards Gimli and Legolas.  
  
When Aragorn reached them, Gimli said,  
  
"I will stay with the young hobbits. Legolas will tell you and Boromir what we found." Aragorn caught Boromir's eye and motioned him over. Gimli reached the spot just as Boromir stood up. Sam had now joined the huddle, and it was quite a challenge to extricate himself.  
  
When Boromir had made his way to Legolas and Aragorn, Legolas began the story of his and Gimli's search from when they discovered the false trail. As he spoke, Boromir turned the small cerulean waistcoat over and over in his hands.  
  
"...then we followed the trail to a small circle in the rocks, and there, we found," the elf paused, "we found evidence."  
  
"Evidence of what?" Aragorn demanded. "Is Peregrin alive or dead? And why are his clothes damp?" Legolas looked up at Aragorn with pain in his eyes.  
  
"I believe that Pippin is alive. There was no smell of death in that place, only...pain. His clothes are wet because we washed the blood and...filth off, as Gimli did not think it would be healthy for the halflings to see...that." Legolas finished lamely.  
  
"Legolas," Aragorn started, "we have been friends for time out of mind. You *must* tell what you think happened to Pippin!"  
  
"I do not think. I know. Aragorn, Boromir, Pippin was ravished last night." Boromir closed his eyes and hung his head. //Oh, poor, poor, Pippin. Of all the company, you were the least deserving of this fate. Your innocent spunk inspired all of us.// Aragorn lifted his face towards the over heaven, his eyes glistening.  
  
"How will we tell them?" He asked. "Will they even understand? I have spent many years observing the Shire, and nothing remotely like that goes on I think. Ah! Gandalf, if we ever needed you it is in this hour!" Boromir then spoke up. "If I may make a suggestion, we should each take one and explain. Legolas, I think you should comfort Merry, with whatever elven skill you have, for he has the most dire need of it. Aragorn, you and I will be with Frodo. He trusts you, and I have not the heart for sleep."  
  
"But what of Sam?"  
  
"I think Gimli will be sufficient for him. I know the loss of Pippin pains him deeply, but he likely feels that he is not allowed to show it. I also think that he will understand what has happened better than the other two." When Aragorn and Legolas looked at him in confusion, he sighed. //Trust two people who can live with just the clothes on their backs for months in the wilderness not to grasp the simplest concept of social classes.// This was something Boromir had particular experience in, as Denethor often had his eldest preside over disputes among the commoners of the middle and lower classes. he had correctly identified Frodo, Merry and Pippin as true men of leisure, who would never have to scramble for their coin, or labor for wages. Sam, on the other hand, was of those classes where a lesson soon learned is a meal soon earned. The other hobbits had been sheilded from the harsh realities of everyday survival, but Boromir suspected that Sam had already had much experience with them. This he explained to Aragorn and Legolas.  
  
"But what are we to do now?" asked Legolas. "I want to be able to give a definite answer to Merry, as he is sure to ask."  
  
"If there is the slightest chance that Pippin is alive, we must pursue it." Aragorn replied. "We will rest here until nightfall, as the hobbits are not fit to travel, and I want to take a look at any injuries they might have picked up in those cursed mines. I am afraid I have been remiss in their care."  
  
"But every minute Pippin is with the orcs is another minute he is in death's shadow!" Boromir exclaimed. "How can we wait?"  
  
"The orcs will be hiding in their caves. It will be easisest to gain entry when their gates are open." The three nodded at each other and went to get their respective charge, to break the bad news.  
  
***  
  
Gimli held Sam's shoulders as they shook with silent sobs. Boromir had been correct, Sam was not a complete stranger to the darker side of life. //Poor little hobbit. He's just not used to someone he's close to falling prey to it.//  
  
"B-b-but why M-Mister Pereg-grin?" Sam asked. "He's s-so young! H-he won't understand!"  
  
"I know, Samwise. It is a sore blow to have ANYone of our number used this way, but it is especially saddening to think of Pippin in that situation."  
  
"W-What are we g-going to do n-now?"  
  
"Aragorn had decided that we will not leave until Pippin is either avenged or found. We will rest here until nightfall, then travel to where...Legolas and I left the trail, in the rocks." Sam looked up at Gimli with red-rimmed eyes.  
  
"D-Do you th-think Mister Pippin might- mayb-be still alive?" It broke Gimli's hard dwarf heart to hear Sam's whisper, and see him struggling against hope.  
  
"I would lie to you if I were to say that there was a good chance. As much as it pains me, there is not. However there IS a poor chance, one that we cannot afford not to try. I also give you my word, if Pippin is...proved dead," these words were hard for Gimli to say, and Sam's shoulders shook harder at them, "I then vow by all that is sacred, I will not rest until they have paid for every one of Pippin's tears with a cask of their own blood." Sam sighed and snuggled in closer to Gimli. Tentatively, he put his arm around Sam. //Gloin was right about this too. These little miscreants do grow on you.//  
  
  
  
*** "Frodo, Merry." Both hobbits looked up at Legolas' gentle voice. He, Strider, and Boromir were standing before them.  
  
"I-Is P-P-Pip..." Merry began, but could not finish.  
  
"I do not believe so little one." Legolas said, kneeling by Merry and hugging him tightly. "But we must...explain some things to you." Legolas looked up at Aragorn ans Boromir, who nodded. Aragorn picked up Frodo and the trio made their was to his bedroll, just out of earshot.  
  
"B-but if Pip ISN'T...w-well, where is he?" Legolas looked down in sorrow at the pile of clothes he had brought over.  
  
"We believe he has been taken prisoner by orcs." Merry let out a tiny wail that was further muffled by Legolas' jerkin. "Shhh, little one, hush now. We've got to be brave for Pippin." "B-But what are they g-gon-na do t-to him?"  
  
"Merry, I am afraid I have something very bad to tell you." Legolas picked up Pippin's jacket, and placed it in Merry's arms. Merry gasped as he realised what he held, and then his sobs redoubled when he spotted a blood stain Gimli had not been able to get out. Merry pressed his face into the woolen weave. It smelled foul, but beneath the foulness he could scent Pippin's smell, that slung tenaciously to the fabric. //Oh, Pippin, PIPPIN, where are you, what have they done to you?// After a few minutes, Legoas shifted Merry so that the halfling was cradled in his arms. He began to perform the mental exercises that would put him in a Healing trance, and allow Merry to enter it with him. Then he could tell Merry what had befallen his cousin, but at the same time sheild him from the full horror.  
  
When Legolas was ready, he opened his mental 'eyes'. This was really what most people thought was keen elf-sight. When elves wanted to, they could sense the energy put out by all living things. With training, they could distinguish types of energy, and see disruptions in the field. When Legolas looked at Merry, he could see the angry yellow aura of grief and anguish. He entered Merry's mind.  
  
:Meriadoc. Can you hear me?:  
  
:!:  
  
:Try and form the words little one, just like talking.:  
  
:Legolas? Is that you? Why aren't you speaking? How are you doing this? Wha- : Legolas cut off the flood of questions.  
  
:This is just something elves can do. I am going to use it to help you. Will you let me into your mind?: Merry was a little frightened at the thought of someone having access to all of his thoughts, but he trusted the elf completely, never considering that the elf might abuse the priviledge.  
  
:Yes, Legolas. But I don't know how.:  
  
:Do not worry, little one. I simply need permission.: Legolas sank into Merry's conciousness, and wrapped himself in a mental 'blanket' around Merry's mind to partially numb the pain. :Now, Merry. Do you know the way of a man and a woman?: Legolas felt a flash of embarassment and affirmation. At least he would not have to explain that. Now for the hard part. :Do you know what it is to force someone in that way? This time a flash of anger and another affirmation. It was better than he expected. //If such an innocent creature knowing about rape can be considered better.// Legolas thought, keeping his musings carefully sheilded from Merry. Now he let just an inkling of a mental impression of what male rape was pass into Merry. :We think that might have happened to Pippin.: There was a moment of complete shock from Merry. His mind was stunned. Then a turmoil of confusion and lonliness and grief for his cousin hit.  
  
:What?How? Whywhywhy?: Legolas could feel Merry's physical body weeping uncontrollably. :Why Pippin?: There was no more coherent mindspeak for several minutes, just emotions. Sorrow for Pippin, fear for his cousin's safety, rage and disgust at what the orcs had put Pippin through. Then Legolas felt guilt. Guilt that Merry could not be there for his cousin, or should have kept a closer eye on him. That had to be stopped.  
  
:Shhh, Merry, it's not your fault. Do not blame yourself. There was no way you would have been able to prevent this. Shhh: Merry still sobbed. Legolas took this oppurtunity to see to Merry's physical state. He was not suprised to find that Merry was hungry and thirsty, but had been ignoring his body's needs. Legolas reached over to his pack and fished out some jerked meat and an apple. These he laid ready. :Hush, little one. Sleep, and forget your troubles for a few hours.: Legolas soothed Merry's mind, and applied the gentle 'pressure' to calm him into sleep. When Merry's mind settled into the telltale 'low hum' of slumber Legolas carefully fed him the meat and the apple, taking control of Merry's body so the hobbit would get fed and rested at the same time.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn held a hysterical Frodo to his chest as tightly as he dared. // Oh, Frodo, if we just had Gandalf with us, none of this would be happening. He would never have let this happen. I am a failure as a leader, and I am sorry, Frodo.// He and Boromir had just explained to Frodo what had happened. Aragorn found it ironic that the oldest hobbit among them was also the most naive. he wished he had elven Healing to offer to Frodo, to spare him some of this anguish.  
  
"I-It's al-ll m-my fault!" Frodo cried from the folds of Aragorn's cloak. Now that was unexpected.  
  
"What on Middle-earth gave you that idea?" exclaimed Boromir.  
  
"I-f-f it wa-wasn't f-for this stupid r-ring...E-Elrond didn't w-want him to come, w-why d-didn't I send him back?" Frodo's voice dissolved into hiccups.  
  
"Frodo," said Boromir, "you cannot possibly accept any blame for this. The only ones who should are the orcs that took him. If there is any fault in the company, it is mine, for I am the one who has been responsible for Merry and Pippin, and I was lax in my duties." Frodo looked up, and was suprised to see tears in Boromir's eyes.  
  
"It's not your fault either Boromir." Frodo laid his hand on Boromir's arma and gave him a small smile.  
  
*** 


	7. Tormented

Tormented Chapter 7 - Moria's Revenge Authors - Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
WARNING WARNING WARNING! Graphic torture and rape in this chapter! Although Llinos did tone it down from the original, everything that happened there happens here- in more ambiguous language.  
  
***  
  
Pippin huddled in the dark. He had been thrown into a small cell, only about ten feet in diameter. The orcs had thrown him in none too gently, and when he raised his head from the filth and detritus on the floor, he had found himself face-to-face with an old, rotting skull, its empty sockets staring, its teeth grinning in delight. Then the guard had rolled the slab over the entrance, leaving Pippin in absolute blackness. Pippin wanted to curl up and die, but every time he moved, he touched something, things he did not want to investigate further. Pippin's mouth was parched, his stomach was having an argument with his backbone, and he was feeling rather woozy from the combination of blood loss and orc brew. After several minutes, he plucked up his courage and crawled through the bones on the floor, stopping when his head bumped rock. Here he curled up, clutching his scarf, left alone with the memories of last night. He began to cry quietly, grabbing and rubbing at himself as if to fend off unseen touches.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Crugsyl marched with a purpose down the tunnel that led to the chief's quarters. He was feeling pleased with himself. He had managed to get a lay for himself and his mates, and also to eliminate the competition for Grishnakh, which was sure to be rewarded. Many of the common goblins bemoaned the fact that they were looked down upon by the larger Uruks, but Crugsyl actually liked that. He could do whatever he wanted, and the Uruk in charge of him would get the blame for not being able to keep his troops in line. The only risk was that he would be viewed by his commander as too much trouble to be kept alive. But Crugsyl compensated by keeping himself supplied with information that no one else could get, and so made himself too valuable to be killed. He approached the heavy door set with florin spikes that marked the boundaries to the Chief's chambers.  
  
"Oy, Skor," he greeted the guard, "tell the chief 'at the little green-eyed rat's in the dungeon. Et were a 'ard fight, an' captain Risknar was killed, but we got 'im."  
  
"Tha's the biggest load 'o dragon dung this side 'o Mirkwood, Crugsie. Yer killed 'im, an' yer jus' fortunate that the chief thinks yer no better'n a warg. 'E were wantin' little Green Eyes fer 'imself, an' now yeh'v gone and spoiled it fer 'im." Skor said.  
  
"Har! Well, likes yer said, t'aint my problem! Ah'm off ter get some grub!" With that Crugsyl left down the passage, heading for the mess hall, leaving Skor the the unpleasant task of informing the Chief that his new toy had already been broken in. He knocked on the door three times.  
  
"Whadderyawant?" came from within.  
  
"The huntin' party's reported back, Chief. They've got Greeneyes." replied Skor, opening the door and sticking his head in. "But Risknar's gone and got hisself killed. And 'is goblins went an' used it."  
  
"Those son's o' wargs! Ah well, at least it got Risknar out 'o the way. 'E were gettin' too ambitious, an' tha's dangerous." A very large Uruk strode into view. "Is our little guest in good enough shape ter still be amusing?"  
  
"I don' know. Crugsyl jus' told me two 'eartbeats ago."  
  
"Well, Skor, le's jus' pay our pet a visit. I migh' jus' let the lads have it. I only want it kept alive fer a day or two. Then we can avenge the Dark Fire." The pair's hideous laughter rang down the corridor.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Pippin winced when the light, dull as it was, hit his eyelids. He peeked over the folds of the scarf at the portal. Two figures were silhouetted by the red torchlight. Pippin felt self conscious at this. He was exposed and helpless, being stared at by two strangers who he could not even see. He whimpered and curled into a ball again. //Why are they here, why can't they just leave me alone// The sound of heavy footsteps crunching dry bones approached. Pippin shook harder. //oh don't touch me leave me alone, PLEASE don't touch me I'll beg harder this time please...// A boot dug into his shoulder.  
  
".'e seems pretty poor off chief. May'ap 'is mind's gone a'ready." Said the orc.  
  
"Naw, Skor. 'E's jus' wantin' some fodder and drink's all. If'n 'e's gone loony a'ready, we c'n still give it to the lads. Jus' s'long's they keep it breathing I don' mind. Not now." At these words Pippin sobbed. He had learned all too well what the 'lads' would do to him if he were in their possession.  
  
"No, please," he croaked, voice hoarse from screams and lack of water, "just let me go, leave me alone, please just let me die..." The orc addressed as 'Chief' gave a loud barking laugh.  
  
"See? 'it's still alive an' in its mind. The lads might be makin' us Uruks some entertainment soon." then the voice addressed Pippin. "Yer know why yer here, worm?" Pippin shook his head warily. He remembered what happened the last time an orc had asked him a question he didn't know the answer to. "I figger'd as much. Yeh've no proper sense of guilt fer that grey man's death, nor our loss, do yer?" Pippin wept harder. Being reminded of Gandalf's death and his part in it also reminded him that he deserved whatever he got. He should not wish for rescue. Besides, the others were probably glad to be rid of him. Aragorn was always scolding him for one thing or another, Legolas was nice, but a bit aloof, Gimli did not seem to care about anyone.  
  
//Maybe Frodo or Merry. Sam's Frodo's servant, he doesn't have feelings for me, but Frodo shouldn't worry about me, he has the Ring to think of and Merry, oh, Merry, don't be angry with me for killing Gandalf please, just go with the others; you idiot, of course that's what he's going to do, do you think he wants you after what happened last night? Merry loves me I know he does; but can he forgive what I did? You've been with orcs, defiling yourself, it's all you deserve...//  
  
"This is all yer deserve, after throwin' tha' rock down th' well. now its yer fault fer our Balrog's death, and yer wizards. We'll keep yer alive, et's more generous'n what yer travlin' mates'd do for you. If'n yer good, yeh'll be treated good, but if'n yer bad, et's yer own problem what happen's ter ya."  
  
The big orc that had been standing in front of Pippin now reached down and stood Pippin up. he took a collar and lead off of his belt and buckled it tightly around Pippin's neck. The lead had a chain end with spikes, threaded around the collar, so that if any pressure was put on it they tightened around the wearer's throat. Next manacles were put on his wrists and ankles. A heavy chain ran between them, but it was too short to allow Pippin to stand up. He was forced to get down on his hands and knees.  
  
"C'mon little pup. HEEL!" Laughed the Uruk, giving a cruel jerk to the chain, causing the spikes to dig into Pippin's soft skin. His face burning with humiliation, Pippin crawled on all fours as fast as he could. But it was never fast enough.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Skor burst through the doors of the mess hall, dragging Pippin after him. He had the little rat's scarf in his hand. It had been quite a trick to get it away. He had the notion that Crugsyl and Lugsta would put it to good use. The hall was mostly deserted, as the orcs were either sleeping or patrolling the caves. Long tables and benches stretched across the cavern. Wargs sprawled under the tables in several places.  
  
"Whatcha got there, corporal?" one of the five orcs in the hall asked.  
  
"A little dinner entertainment fer youse." Skor replied. "On'y thing is, it's got ter be kept alive." Skor pulled Pippin over to a ring set in the ground by the wall, and clipped the lead to it. "'Ere," said Skor, tossing a key to the goblin, "If'n yer needs ter get 'im out 'o those chains. Oh, and it had this little rag." Skor handed over the scarf. "Seemed mighty attached to it. May'ap it'll come in useful." With that, the orc left the hall.  
  
Pippin lay still on the cold floor, not daring to look up. He felt so low, to be chained and led around like a common animal. Harsh voices floated down to him.  
  
"Whadderya think it is?"  
  
"Too small fer an elf."  
  
"But it's got elf ears."  
  
"Baby elf?"  
  
"Don' be an idgit! Elves don' 'ave babies!" A strong hand grabbed Pippin's face and turned it towards the light. "S'not a wench, but et's purdy's one!" A new voice broke in, one that Pippin recognized.  
  
"Tis good's one too! Mighty fine lay las' night, right lads?" Crugsyl's patrol had just come in.  
  
"Any one could see that, what with the blood all over it's legs, Crugsyl. Skor jus' brought it in. Said we could do whatever we wanted wi' it. so long's it's alive when he calls fer it." Shouts of approval and excitement followed this announcement.  
  
"Har lads! We'll be able ter finish what we started! But not without a meal first." Pippin looked up at this. Although he was terrified at being near so many orcs, he was also a hobbit, and his hunger was starting to outweigh the fear. He watched as the orcs sat at the benches and ate. He followed the flagons of beer with his eyes, and thought about how good cool water would feel on his throat. His stomach began grumbling loudly at the sight of food. Whenever an orc would finish with something, it would toss it over to the wargs. The wolves would get into a brief fight, causing much merriment among the orcs. Pippin hoped some might come his way. He started observing the wargs more carefully.  
  
Several of the lupines seemed to have favourite orcs, and would loll around on the ground at the orcs' feet, receiving scraps and an occasional pat on the head. Now wild with hunger and thirst, Pippin slowly crawled up to the orc nearest to him, a small goblin that had not been with Crugsyl's group. A few of the wargs around the goblin's feet growled when he approached, but that was all they did.  
  
The goblin then noticed Pippin, cringing at his feet, begging for food. Pippin could not help but think what his father would say if he could see his son, begging from an orc among the dogs. //Some future Thain.//  
  
The goblin he had chosen pointed and laughed. Pippin's cheeks burned as the others joined in. Then the orc took something off of his plate and held it over Pippin's head. A mushroom! Pippin's stomach gave a loud growl. The orcs laughed harder at this. The goblin dropped the mushroom. As Pippin's fingers closed on it, a hot, heavy weight hit him from the side and struck him to the ground. A warg had pounced on him, snarling inches from his face and squeezing the breath out of his body. A second warg shouldered the first one out of the way, and Pippin found himself in the middle of a dogfight. He tried to curl into a ball, but the struggling and growling bodies would not let him. He tried to hang on to the mushroom, but it was ripped from his hands. The mass of wolves attacked the one that had taken it, moving the tangle away from Pippin. After he felt the last warg spring away, Pippin looked frantically around for any morsel, but there was none. A tear rolled down his cheek. The orcs laughed louder than ever.  
  
"Looks like yer little pup din't do so well, there, Crugsie!"  
  
"Har! Et don't have nice teeth 'r claws! Frail little thing, not worth keepin' around."  
  
"Stupid, too. Otherwise 'et woulda noticed tha' there's a water dish fer it, stead 'a eyein' our flagons." Pippin looked around, and sure enough, there was a shallow bowl filled with water that would not be used for scrubbing floors in the Shire. He crawled as fast as he could to it. His whole body was crying out for want of something to drink. With his hands manacled he could not scoop up the water and was forced to lap it. He had barely gotten a few mouthfuls when a low growl made him pause. He lifted his head, water dripping from his lips. A warg stood over him. Whimpering, Pippin crouched down as low as he could and backed away. When he was about five feet from it, the warg stopped growling, lowered its head, and drank. When he was done, there was barely enough left for one mouthful, but Pippin eagerly lapped it up.  
  
The orcs were just finishing with their meal, and becoming bored with the antics of the wargs. This was a bad combination for Pippin. He was grabbed by his hair and hauled up. The putrid breath of an orc washed over his face.  
  
"C'mere lads! Give us tha' key!" The orc unlocked Pippin's manacles and stood him up. Pippin's spine ached from being in a crouched position for so long. The orc had taken the lead and held it just tight enough so that Pippin had to stand on his tiptoes in order to keep the spikes away. He shook with fear. All of the orcs were staring at him. //Why are they all looking at me? Why won't they leave me alone? Oh please don't not again...//  
  
Crugsyl spoke up once more. ".'Ere lads. Think our little whore might give us a dance?" Pippin looked up at him in horror.  
  
"No-o," Pippin sobbed weakly, "ple-e-ase don' h-hu-urt m-e-e..." The orcs ignored him.  
  
"I don' think it's strong enou', Crugsyl. Not fer a proper one, any ways." Said the orc holding Pippin.  
  
"Oh, I know how ter make 'em dance! Give it 'ere. Lugsta, stop puttin' tha' hotroot on yer grub an' give some 'ere!" The orc holding Pippin handed him to Lugsta. Pippin was hiccupping little sobs, his throat too tight with fear to make a louder sound. //No, not to him, don't touch me don't hurt me again// Pippin remembered all to well that Crugsyl had been the first to abuse him the night before.  
  
The orc that had Pippin gave a nasty smile, and put Pippin on the table, holding him down on his back. //no. .. no. no. don't touch me! let me go! don't hurt me! MERRY! PLEASE! help me anyone!...// Pippin could just raise his head enough to look down the table at what Crugsyl was doing. Crugsyl had some sort of red paste on his fingers. At a nod from him, one of the orcs took Pippin's knees, spread them and lifted them up. Pippin whimpered again.  
  
"Har! Yeh'll be makin' purtyer noises 'n that soon, little whore! Now, dance!" With this he pushed his fingers into Pippin's abused opening. Pippin screamed. It felt as if he had been set on fire. The orcs that were holding him let go. Pippin's body and limbs jerked convulsively, and he fell off the table and onto the floor, upsetting the bench, which fell on top of him. But Pippin didn't notice, his backside was in too much pain. He had to get away from the burning agony. Pippin ran blindly, smacking into a wall and falling down, dazed. The orcs hooted with laughter. Pippin pushed against the wall several times, then ran off in a different direction, but moving his legs only made the burning increase. He fell to the ground, writhing in agony, his yells never stopping. The orcs made a circle around him jeering and kicking him whenever his struggles brought him close. Pippin's eyes watered, and his mouth dripped blood from where he had bitten his lip through. //Oh get it out! please! it burns! why? why? WHY?...//  
  
After a while, the burning went down to a bearable level, and Pippin only had the strength to moan weakly, lying on the floor, and jerking in pain every couple of minutes.  
  
"Now tha' our little whore 'as given us a nice dance, What say we feed it? 'Tis the on'y civilized thing ter do. An' I know it likes mushrooms." At this, Pippin raised his head, but when he met Crugsyl's eyes, he could not look into them and pushed his face back down in the dirt. "Pick it up, an' bring it 'ere. May'ap it'd like its rag 's well?" Crugsyl held up the scarf. //No, don't touch that, it's Merry's, you're not worthy to touch it; neither are you, you're lower than him; but it's Merry's scarf, and Merry gave it to me, I have to keep it safe...// Pippin made a grab for the scarf, which Crugsyl was dangling just in front of him. Crugsyl jerked it away and caught Pippin. Pippin squeaked in terror.  
  
"C'mon little rat! We've got ter feed ya somthin' if'n yer gonna stay alive fer the chief. 'Ere, lads! give us one 'o those nice big 'shrooms." The other orcs found this hilarious, but again Pippin did not get the joke. Crugsyl took him over to a bench and sat Pippin in his lap. He held up a large, brown mushroom. Pippin's mouth was watering, he desperately wanted to eat, but he was justifiably wary of anything the orcs wanted to put into his mouth. He tried to avoid the mushroom as it was forced at him, but huge hands gripped his face and made him open his mouth.  
  
0-{flashback}-0  
  
Claws caught his jaw and kept him from closing it. Pippin's eyes opened and he looked around in fear. He could feel the foul breath of an orc warming his cheek, but could not move his head around enough to look at it. Then he saw another orc coming straight at him, loosening his breeches. Pippin froze in fear. // What are they going to do? What more CAN they do? Why are they holding me like this? Oh just let me die!//  
  
0-{end of flashback}-0  
  
Crugsyl broke off a piece of the mushroom and stuffed it down Pippin's throat. Pippin gagged on the huge finger, but managed to swallow the piece of fungus. Crugsyl repeated the gesture until the mushroom was all gone. By that time, Pippin was not really scared anymore. He was rather warm though, and having trouble focusing. His vision swam, and he felt like lead weights had been tied to his limbs.  
  
The orcs watched Pippin's behaviour with amusement. The mushroom had been of a variety known as "Valar's Gate" for their hallucinogenic properties. The drowsiness and sense of well-being would soon be replaced by disorientation and hallucinations. Crugsyl pushed Pippin off of his lap. Pippin hit the floor with a thud, and sat staring at the ground. His head rolled from side to side and he began to hum.  
  
Pippin was far away, back in the green fields of the Shire, playing with Merry. They were singing an old drinking song Merry's uncle Rorimac had just taught them. Pippin smiled. Good old Merry. Merry was always nice to him. Not like Ted Sandyman. Pippin frowned as he had a vision of Ted beating him when they were small children. Sometimes his father hit him too. The mushrooms effects made Pippin's mind superimpose the deserved spankings with the pain and fear of the bully's beatings. Pippin curled into a ball. He had deserved Ted's brutality, just like he deserved what the orcs had done to him.  
  
Lugsta watched the little creature with interest. He always liked watching captives on the mushrooms, one could see every emotion they were experiencing on their faces. The little rat had gone from sitting in the dirt, humming an inane little song with a dopey smile on it's face to curled up and sobbing in fear in under five minutes. But it was time to make things really interesting. He grabbed his whip and stepped into the ring with Pippin.  
  
Pippin looked up at Boromir. The rest of the Fellowship stood around him in a circle, laughing and pointing at him. //Boromir! Help me please, I'm so scared, I just want to go home, I'll never annoy you again, just help me please// Then he saw the cruel whip in Boromir's hand. //No, please Boromir, why are you angry with me, I'm sorry, s-s-sorry, please...// The lash descended and Pippin screamed. The fire licked his back many times, and just before he blacked out, he could see Boromir passing the whip to Strider and Legolas, and Merry turning away in disgust. //No! Merry, please. help me, I'm sorry, I didn't want to! I swear, please, MER-// Then all was dark.  
  
0-***-0  
  
When Pippin came to, he found himself being dragged along a rocky passageway by the arms. His wrists were bound with the scarf, and Lugsta pulled him along. The pain of the rocks and dirt scraping his whipcuts had woken him up. The big Uruk that had taken him from the cell to the mess hall was walking in front of Lugsta. They were talking.  
  
"Look 'ere, Skor. The other lads 'avent 'ad no chance at this'n, an' their gonna grumble!"  
  
"That's the Chief's problem. If'n 'e wants th' little maggot, then he's gonna get it. yer lads c'n 'ave what's left."  
  
"Which ain't gonna be much, or I'm a troll!"  
  
"So what if'n there isn't any left? Whatcher gonna do 'bou' it? 'E's the chief. It's 'is place ter tell us what ter do." Lugsta merely grumbled and gave Pippin an extra sharp jerk. They came to the door set with florin spikes. Lugsta knocked three times and entered. The voice from the cell whose owner he had not seen came out of the shadowy room.  
  
"So, our little pup 'as decided to pay 'is 'ost a visit, 'as it?" Skor pushed Pippin forwards, and backed out the door quickly.  
  
"Tell me if'n yer be needin' anything, Chief." Pippin raised his head and looked around. His vision was still blurry from the mushroom, and he was rather disoriented, but he could still make out the main features of the room. A large bed was directly ahead of him, against a wall. Chained next to it were two large white animals, which Pippin correctly assumed to be wargs. Partially hidden in the shadows were large mechanical contraptions that did not bear too close an inspection if one wanted pleasant dreams. On the wall next to the bed, a large fire was burning in the grate.  
  
Heavy footsteps approached Pippin. Two large boots appeared in his sight. A hand picked him up surprisingly gently. Pippin swayed as he was set upright, but managed to keep his balance. The effect of the mushroom was fading fast. The hand reached down and caressed his cheek, then lifted his chin. Pippin did not want to see what horrible creature had him now, and shut his eyes tight. The orc turned his chin to the side. Pippin felt like a horse being judged at a fair. He could not stifle a tiny sob.  
  
The hand that had been so gentle struck him with a force that made his teeth rattle. The only thing that prevented him from flying across the room was the hand on the lead of the collar, which drew tight choking Pippin. The hand continued stroking his face. Pippin leaned into it slightly. It felt nice after so many hours of abuse; he did not want to do anything to make it stop, and the beating start.  
  
"Heh, heh. So, yer wants ter be here? Yer wants this?" The orc chuckled. Pippin shook his head. Another box to the ears made them ring. When he was still, the stroking resumed. The orc bent down and untied Pippin's hands, and took the scarf. Pippin wanted to cry out at this, but the memory of the punishment that followed every sound kept him quiet.  
  
"So what're you? Yer look like a wench, a right young'n at that." The orc moved his stroking hand down to fondle Pippin. "But yer feel more like 'n adult male," he jiggled the small testicles, "'s'intresting!"  
  
After several minutes of petting and stroking, the orc gave a tug on Pippin's lead. Pippin had to open his eyes to see where he was being led, and found himself face to face with the biggest orc he had encountered so far. Pippin's head did not even reach the orc's waist. Pippin cringed and shrank back. The orc jerked the lead viciously. Pippin stumbled forward and fell at his feet. Then the hand gently patted his head and pushed him further down to the ground. This time when the orc tugged on the leash, Pippin got up and followed immediately. He was learning.  
  
But the orc stamped his foot on the leash, pulling Pippin back down to the ground. "Nah you stay down there, little dog, on yer hands an' knees." When the lead jerked again Pippin crawled along on all fours, terrified of disobeying this monster. The orc led him over to where the wargs were tethered. Pippin started to hang back, but at an impatient twitch of the lead, he heeled again.  
  
The wargs did not even lift their heads as Pippin was tied with them. He cowered as far away from them as possible. The orc chuckled cruelly. There was a large platter on the table by the bed. Pippin's mouth watered as he smelled the aromas, and saw the steam rising from various dishes. The orc seated himself on the bed, and began to eat. Pippin watched the food, but whenever the orc looked at him he quickly averted his eyes. After what the goblins had done to him in the mess hall, he was not sure he ever wanted to have anything in his mouth again.  
  
The wargs sat up, looking expectantly at the orc. Every so often, the orc would take a piece of food and feed it to them. There was no squabbling over the bits as there had been in the mess hall, only a dignified eating of the morsel. Pippin found himself drawing closer to the wargs. He was so hungry and thirsty. The blood loss was beginning to affect him, and he was feeling very tired. He wished he could go to sleep, and forget everything that had happened to him, at least for a few hours.  
  
The orc looked at him, and patted the floor next to a warg. Pippin did not want to be punished again, and crept slowly up to the warg. The warg did not look at him, only at its master, waiting for the next bit of food. The orc picked up an apple, carefully peeled and cut it, then offered one piece to the wargs. Pippin thought of how good the apple would taste, and how the juice would help quench some of his thirst. But the orc never offered him any and kicked him when he made any sound.  
  
Finally, when Pippin thought he could stand it no longer, the orc took a bottle of wine, and poured some into the palm of his hand. This he offered to Pippin. Pippin overcame his disgust and the remains of his pride, and lapped at the wine. They repeated this several times, until the edge was taken off Pippin's thirst. The orc chuckled again.  
  
"Now my little pup, I'd better gives yer a name if'n yer gonna be my dog. What shall I call yer? Dogwhore - heh heh! thass a good name fer yer. Can yer say 'yes Master' - can yer?" Pip had not had much luck before, pleading for mercy, but he was not about to defy this new tormentor.  
  
"Yes Master." He said in the tinniest voice possible.  
  
"Whass yer new name?" The orc grabbed his hair now and pulled his face up to look at him.  
  
"Dogwhore, Master." Pippin squeaked.  
  
"An whadda yer gonna do to stop me killin' yer slowly right now?"  
  
"Don't know." Pippin whimpered fearfully. The orc clouted him, making the wargs growl at Pippin and sit up.  
  
"Master, yer call me master, don't ever forget again. An' yer better think of something yer can do real fast."  
  
"Sorry Master," Pippin blurted in terror. "Anything Master, I d-don't know, Master." Pippin's lead was longer than those of the wargs, and this allowed the orc to pick him up and set him on the bed. Pippin quivered, curled up, and put his hands over his head. Being this close to an orc and a bed brought back the memories of Crugsyl again. The orc took his head and lifted it, so that Pippin was looking into his captor's face. A hideous smile slowly crept across the Uruk's features. He drew Pippin to him and fastened his lips over Pippin's small protesting ones. He opened Pippin's mouth and thrust his vile tongue searchingly inside. The only thought Pippin could form through his revulsion and disgust was that this was not what he had expected his first kiss to be like. The orc forced him to uncurl, and flipped him over so that Pippin's face was smothered by the dirty blanket.  
  
"If'n youse can't think of nothin', I'd better shows yer what a Dogwhore like youse can do." //not again, please no, I'm so scared, please let me go...// Pippin could hear the sounds of clothes be removed and adjusted behind him. He did not dare to struggle or cry out after the orcs' conditioning, but silent tears slid down his cheeks. An oppressive, heavy weight pushed him farther into the mattress. He was smothering, but he could not do anything about it, he was powerless. The orc gripped his victim's hips to hold him steady. Pippin did not have the air in his lungs to cry out. The orc did not start, but lay still on top of him.  
  
"Now little Dogwhore I'm a kind Master an' youse'll want this because you're a filthy little slut." Then a huge claw groped under him, and grasped his small member stroking it until Pippin got an erection of his own. Half mad with pain, Pippin could not control himself and bucked involuntarily. He was not feeling any pleasure, but the way his body was reacting confused him. Perhaps he really did want this, and he was a horrible person for wanting this, and behaving the way he was. Then he could not blame the orcs, they were just doing what he wanted...  
  
The chief smiled sadistically. The little creature was reacting just the way he wanted it to. Having such control over his victims was almost as pleasurable as the release itself. The little thing was bucking and shaking under his practiced hands. The chief found the effects of pain mixed with pleasure most fascinating, and had honed his skill with many victims, but none so intriguing as this little mite.  
  
Pippin was sweating and shaking so hard that any good done by his drink was soon going to be negated. He thought he was going to die, but the hand on his erection was making him feel things he had never felt before. His mind was reeling from trying to cope with the two opposite sensations at the same time. "Beg me to make you come and get it right." The orc suddenly threatened.  
  
//what do I have to do// Pippin could hardly think now. //Beg him to let me come?// "Please let me come." He managed to squeal. The orc sank his teeth into Pippin's shoulder and bit him viciously drawing blood and making him cry out with agony.  
  
"Whadda yer call me?" the orc bit him once more.  
  
"Master! Let me come please Master, please Master." Pippin sobbed. The orc sped his thrusts, timing them with his caresses to Pippin. Pippin could not take it anymore, and shuddered a little climax. With this, the orc let loose, and quickly reached completion, oblivious to Pippin, who was trying to muffle his crying in the blanket.  
  
"Now say thank you." The orc finished and cuffed Pippin across the head, before grabbing a handful of hair to pull his face around.  
  
"Thank you, Master." Pippin's breathing was ragged and laboured and he was on the verge of passing out. The orc laughed and threw the little body back on the cold stone floor.  
  
"P'raps I won't kill yer just yet, then. Nah there's still a few things I wanna do ter yer first." Pippin just squeezed his eyes shut, and lay on the hard stone, as the darkness rushed up to take him.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Pippin felt a heavy weight on his back and immediately tried to curl into a ball, expecting to be beaten or cuffed. He also felt an insistent scraping across his cut and bleeding back that was moist as if he were being washed with a damp cloth.  
  
As Pippin tried to curl up the weight pressed down a little harder, keeping him in place and was accompanied by a low, threatening growl. Pippin managed to turn his head a little and saw with terror that one of the large white wargs was holding him down with an oversized paw and was steadily licking his back. If he tried to move at all the beast growled and placed its teeth across the back of his neck. It didn't bite though; it seemed to be more of a warning not to move. He lay very still.  
  
Suddenly there was a raucous laugh from above him.  
  
"Thass precious... She's a rare one no mistake." The warg broke off licking Pippin to look up at her master. "Did you find yourself a little hurt pup, my beauty?" He patted the warg's head and she resumed her ministrations. "See I knewed yer wus cut out ter be a dog. Heh Heh!"  
  
Pippin, as he had always felt when he was forced to be very still, felt an irresistible urge to fidget. He also wanted to scratch. He was feeling decidedly...infested. Sharp pinpricks of pain stabbed across his scalp, evidencing the fleas he had undoubtedly picked up while on the floor with the wargs. But with the warg paying such close attention, he did not know what she would do if he moved. His curls on his feet were also now home to a host of critters that made the Midge Water marshes seem tame by comparison.  
  
"C'mere, Icefang." At this, the bitch left licking Pippin and trotted over to the bowl the Chief had just set out. The other warg was already eating his. After a few minutes, there was nothing left except some scraps even the wargs did not want. Pippin crept slowly towards the bowl.  
  
"Hah! if'n yer wants th' food, yer c'n have it, little Dogwhore." Pippin crawled faster. He was so intent on getting food in his stomach, he did not notice the Chief walk over to the fireplace and take out a poker that had been in the flames, and then take up a many tailed whip in his other hand.  
  
As Pippin reached out to get the scraps, the whip cracked through the air. Pippin screamed and jumped back.  
  
"Now, yer knows no proper dog'd eat wi' it's paws!" Pippin went forwards again, and this time lowered his mouth to the bowl. He grabbed the morsel of food in his teeth.  
  
White-hot pain seared across his side. The orc had just jabbed him with the poker. Pippin dropped the food and tried to jump away, but the orc had a foot on his lead, and cracked the whip behind him, driving Pippin forwards towards the bowl.  
  
"C'mon, Dogwhore! I give you somethin' an' yer don' like it! Eat!" Pippin struggled forwards to the bowl, but as soon as he got his lips on the food, the poker jabbed him again. He tried to escape, but the lead and the whip kept him going back to the bowl. Sobbing in pain and confusion, Pippin tried again and again to eat, but the orc never let him, yelling at him all the while that he had better eat what was given to him, or he would be a rude ingrate along with a filthy slut. Finally Pippin curled into a ball, and neither whip-cracks or jabs with the poker could move him. All he was aware of was the noxious smell of burning flesh, and screams coming from a long way off. //Someone should help whoever that is.// He did not realize they were his own. Finally they stopped.  
  
"If'n yer don't want ter eat, mebbe y'll not mind not bein' able ter!" The chief picked Pippin up, and held up a cruel-looking metal device, that had leather straps attached to various parts. Pippin whimpered and shut his eyes as the orc forced his mouth open and forced the device in. It fit against his palate and around his teeth, with prongs that stuck into his jaw whenever he moved it. The leather straps held it in place. After locking it on Pippin, the gag holding his mouth open as far as it would go, the orc stepped back and looked and his handiwork.  
  
"Har! There now, try an' eat wi' that! Ah'll be back, don' misbehave, little Dogwhore." The chief patted Pippin on the head and left.  
  
Pippin's tears flowed freely over his cheeks. His mouth was open as far as it could possibly go, and every time he moved either his jaw or the device, It put unbearable pressure on his mouth. He lay down and curled up again, wanting to sob or yell with pain, but that only caused more. He was very cold, too, and did not dare to take one of the blankets off the bed. His eye caught something. The scarf! Its end was hanging over the edge of the table. It was not much, but it was something, and Pippin wanted to feel it and bury his head in it and smell Merry and forget everything. He took a few faltering steps, but tripped on the edge of the skin rug that lay underneath the table, bed, and in front of the fireplace. The fall jarred the gag, and Pippin cried out. He was about to struggle up again, when a whine above him made him freeze. The warg bitch was standing over him again, making odd little noises. She nuzzled him, and sniffed at the gag, and whined again. He looked up at her, and stretched out his hand to touch her on the head. She rubbed against his hand, bent down, and licked his face. He tried another time to get to his feet, but a large padded paw held him down. Looking at the scarf, he stretched his hand out in desperation to it. The warg followed the movement, got up, padded over to the table, and brought back the scarf. Pippin was in too much pain to be amazed, but it was a pleasant surprise to have the scarf suddenly in his hands. He buried his face in it, and breathed in deeply. Merry's smell was still there, but growing fainter.  
  
The bitch curled her self around him, and he settled his head on her belly. She started licking him again, and he welcomed her warm tongue, revelling in the feeling of being comforted.  
  
0-***-0  
  
The sound of laughter woke Pippin again. The chief was back, this time with several other Uruks. Pippin shoved his face into Icefang's side. Large hands grabbed him away, and a shove sent him stumbling to the floor in front of the orcs. Pippin stared at the three pairs of boots, trembling.  
  
"Nah, little slut, I've asked some 'o th' lads ter come an' teach yer some manners! Which yer obviously need, as yeh've not introduced yerself ter them yet. Nah, is your name Dogwhore?" Pippin nodded miserably. "And am I yer Master?" Another nod. "Good, nah, these lads'll learn ya yer place. I get more important thin's ter do." The chief passed the key to Pippin's gag to one of the three before he left, taking the wargs with him. The bitch stopped at the doorway and looked back at him before the chief tugged her through.  
  
The orcs were anything but gentle. They bound Pippin's hands again, and shoved him into the walls, finally stopping when he was too dazed to stand.  
  
"Oo's first then an' which bit of it d'yer want?" Pippin dazedly noticed that the large orc that was holding him had two middle fingers missing from the hand that was wrapped round his upper arm. "How about takin' a look in its mouth?" Three fingers took out the gag, and grabbed a handful of curly hair as he forced himself onto Pippin with brutal indifference.  
  
"Don't like you much, Frugly," One of the others laughed at Pippin's horrified face. "P'raps we can get it a bit more excited." He came forward and took hold of Pippin's genitals in both hands, working them back and forth. "See youse can't do this!" He laughed at the finger deficient orc.  
  
"Gerroff, I'll shows yer." Frugly turned Pippin round and held him by the hips making Pippin squeal. The squeal was cut short though as the other orc simply shrugged his shoulders at the new position, loosed his own member, carried on and did what he wanted.  
  
Frugly finished first and the third orc immediately took his place. When the orc in front completed, he stood on the lead end so that Pippin could not move and idly peed all over his head.  
  
Frugly laughed at this and, loosening his own member again, walked over to where the hobbit was still being used and urinated over the small body.  
  
"'ere pack it in." groaned the third orc. He finally peaked and looked at the spent little form lying on the ground and kicked it a couple of times and then he too relieved himself all over Pippin's backside.  
  
By this time, Pippin was nearly senseless with shock and pain, and it hardly seemed to matter. After they were done they replaced the gag. The chief strode in after a while, and stood, sneering down at Pippin, who lay still in the puddle of filth.  
  
"Well, did little Dogwhore enjoy playing with the lads?" Pippin had only enough strength for a tiny whimper. A boot kicked him in the side. "Tha's cause yer a worthless slut! not good fer anythin' but this! Tha' right?" Pippin nodded. He was starting to believe in his own worthlessness. "Good. Now we c'n get down ter fun!"  
  
Pippin's arms were lifted, bound with the scarf, and hung on a hook that dangled from the ceiling high above. The chain on the hook ran up to a pulley, then back down to a winch, where one of the Uruks took up position and started to turn. Pippin was lifted into the air, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. His heart was pounding in his chest. As a hobbit, his preferred place for his feet was on the ground, and he had a chronic fear of heights. The orcs lifted him until he was about two man-lengths in the air. Pippin shut his eyes again; he was getting vertigo from being that high up, and there was nothing to prevent the orcs from dropping him to his death. Down below, Icefang looked up at him and whimpered. She turned to her master and nuzzled his hand.  
  
"Heh, heh, don' worry yerself, girl. We'll return yer pup to yer, though 'e might be a little damaged." The orc winching up Pippin paused and looked at the chief. The chief nodded. The orc flipped the catch on the chain releasing it. Pippin plummeted towards the ground.  
  
Pippin's heart went to his throat as he dropped. He only fell about two feet when he jerked to a halt. His arms ached and popped as the extra strain was put on them. Pippin moaned through the gag. The second time he was dropped his left arm gave way. Pippin gave a strangled scream as he felt his arm bones slip out of their socket. In two more drops his right dislocated. Pippin was crying in agony as they lowered him the rest of the way. When they released his arms from the hook, he slumped to the floor. They had no need of manacles now, as his arms were useless.  
  
"An' now, little Dogwhore, yer wants ter know whats gonna happen to yer next." Pippin continued writhing in pain. "Ha, ha, you'll jus' have ter listen. When the cursed sun goes away, some lads'll take yer outside. We've been keepin' an eye on yer mates, an' we're gonna lead 'em to yer." Pippin's heart gave a leap. Were the orcs going to let him go? Was he going to be back with Merry? But then doubt set in. Did he want to rejoin them? Would they let him? After he had had congress with orcs and slept with wargs? He remembered Boromir whipping him. If they did that, would they use him like the orcs? If that was all he was good for? The chief's voice broke into his thoughts.  
  
"But yer know how they're gonna find yer? My lads 'll tear out yer tripes, and string 'em through the trees! Yer mates'll find yer by followin' em through the forest!" Pippin wanted to throw up, and dry heaved, but the movement made the pain from the gag unbearable. But the chief was not done. "An all this 'cause yer gone and tossed that little pebble, Dogwhore! Now yer wizards dead, an' yer mates'll lose a fair bit 'o time tracking you down, only to watch yer die!"  
  
0-****-0  
  
TBC  
  
original reviews:  
  
HMP the hobbit vampire jedi 2002-08-29 7 Signed hey! let me justsay that I reaaly looooooooooooove your story!  
  
uhm, well, Il iek how it's written... I do'nt really like people tormenting poor little pipsy...  
  
*huggles her poor little chipmuck ;)*  
  
ok, ok, I like reading this stuff right before bed-time, yes, I am freaky, but I'm bloody old enough to read it! hehe (well, 19 more days... then I'm 17, why am I telling this? hehe)  
  
anyway, only read to chapter 6 until now, it's midnight here, might decide to stop for a while, get soem sleep, get some eeevil dreams about pippin.  
  
*hugs her little pipsqeeck*  
  
ah, yes, I adore pippin, hehe.  
  
*hugs him again*  
  
wait, your probably not interested in me hugging peregrin, are ya? hehe.  
  
Anyway,I adore the story so far! really do! :)  
  
keep it up!  
  
Java D. 2002-08-22 7 Anonymous Aww.. *sniff* Poor lil Pippin!! I love this story!! What can I say..? I'm sadistic!  
  
Mistoffelees (lia_parisi@hotmail.com) 2002-07-23 7 Anonymous Aww..~pats IceFang~  
  
....  
  
~eye twitches~ How..dare...they...and..with...urg...and..~convulses involuntarily~ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! ~runs around breaking things~ Sorry, but I just am SO angry at these orcs right now..~fumes~ THEY WILL DIE AS SOON AS I GET MY HANDS ON THEM! ~runs off to write fic about killing orcs from this story~  
  
Story:  
  
Me: ~runs around and kills all the orcs from the story~  
  
Orcs: We're sorry..forgive us..  
  
Me: NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! ~bashes them with sticks and throws them into boiling magma~  
  
End of story.  
  
(Sorry, I might not be able to review any more chapters..only one or two more..have to get to sleep..I'll review the rest tomorrow..) Ayuthaya 2002- 07-16 7 Anonymous Poor, poor Pippin! Please stop hurting him. I can't bear to read much more but you've got me strangely hooked. Please let him escame soon! Se 2002-07-16 7 Anonymous very well written but...how much more can Pippin take? I know I can't take much more...*whimpers*  
  
:( Pippiiiiiin....*sobs* Moonshine 2002-07-16 7 Anonymous Wow. Your story is really great so far, I felt so sorry for Pippin. Also I think your writing style is fantastic and you shouldn't worry too much about it. Please update soon. Mainframe 2002-07-16 7 Signed Hi me again!  
  
Just finished reading chapter 7...Wow! That was...strong. I like my torture fic's to be graphic, but even I was on the verge of retching in some places. The chilli-powder scene was quite nasty. As was the Uruk gang-rape, and I have to say...well done! If your gonna write torture/ rape fic's, why hold back! And no one can accused you of that!  
  
I like the fact that Pip's being treated by 'Master' as a dog, so in later chapters I guess he'll still respond in a similar fashion? You know after his rescue; like if someone raises a hand it's interpreted as a potential slap. He's already learnt not to make eye contact with anyone unless given a direct order. A gentle caress for comfort would sent his mind racing, what are they gonna want next? And coming to heel...possible to Merry? That would be a great thing to read, how the hell would Merry react to Pippin (HIS bright-eyed, curly haired soul-mate in mischief)acting as an animal and silently acknowledging him as his new master? Just a thought, after all, he really is quite broken now. Or would he hate and fear Merry?  
  
I like the fact that the Warg bitch has taken him under her wing, very, very nice touch.  
  
This was a nice surprise to find as I'd only just downloaded your work this morning, to find chapter 7 up and a nice, decent size chapter it has been! Great work, love to read more.  
  
Jen  
  
x  
  
shirebound 2002-07-15 7 Signed Gosh, I'm not sure I can stomach anything this brutal. Hope it doesn't get any worse!  
  
Melanie 2002-07-15 7 Signed WOW!!!  
  
Goodness gracious!!! This single chapter I believe, contains more torture, humiliation and degradation then all the FF I've ever read combined.  
  
You'd like to know how you're doing on the angst? Is that a joke or something?! It's terrific! Your descriptions are so realistic. The part where you described Pippin's 'Master's' room. ... I could actually picture it.  
  
But, what I really like about this chapter is Icefang. She treats and sees Pip as her own little pup, she cares and worries for him. My favorite part of the entire chapter is where Icefang retrieves Pippin's scarf for him, and then curls herself around him to protect him. Too adorable!  
  
Superb job! Keep it up! 


	8. Envisioned

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 8:Envisioned  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. They are all Tolkien's. Or whoever has the rights now. There is no money involved.  
  
A/N: Yes the previous chapters were graphic, but you should have seen the NC-17 version! Actually, you still can! Go up to my author bio page and look fro the links to it. It is already up to chapter 29.  
  
Frodo looked up from his pack. The sun was getting low in the west. They would be setting off soon. Aragorn had decided that the company would be bound for where Pippin's clothes were found, and they would try and pick up the trail there. //Oh, Pippin,// he thought, //I'm so sorry you came. What am I going to tell your mother?// He had had a restless sleep, plagued with dreams of the horrors he had just learned existed. But from Merry's appearance, Frodo had fared well.  
  
Merry's eyes were red and swollen, with dark circles evidencing a sleepless day. he loaded his pack mechanically, with movements perfected by months on the road. He looked up as a hand was laid on his shoulder. Boromir smiled down at him.  
  
"Ready to go, little one?" He asked.  
  
"Been ready for hours." Merry replied, shortly. "I'm sorry, Boromir, I didn't mean to snap at you, it's just..." His voice broke. He wanted to cry, but he had no more tears. Boromir knelt down and embraced him.  
  
"I know you grudge every second that goes by with out finding Pip, but Aragorn knows what'd best. You would not have gone an hour before you were overcome by exhaustion, and be no use to anyone, least of all Pippin." Boromir clapped him on the shoulder and lifted his chin. "Keep looking on the bright side, Merry, no matter what. I could not bear it if anything happened to that fabulous smile." Merry managed to force his lips upwards in a weak grin. Boromir sighed.  
  
"Oh, well. That will have to do."  
  
By this time the others were ready to start. It was an hour till sunset, and they did not want to wait any longer. Pippin's abscence was distictly noticeable. His continous chatter might have grated nerves before, and his boundless energy caused some problems (especially among those who valued thier sleep), but all of the company sorely missed those annoyances they had come to accept as part of every day life.  
  
The company set off at a good clip, but not as fast as Legolas and Gimli had been able to manage. They had only gone about a quarter of the way, however, when Frodo had a rather unsettling experience.  
  
:Frodo: A feminine voice sounded in his mind. He stopped so suddenly that Sam and then Boromir ran into him.  
  
:Ringbearer, your friend is in grave danger.: Frodo gasped and sat down hard his head in his hands. //I'm going mad, hearing voices is not good...//  
  
:I am not the voice of madness. Go where I instruct. Your friend is in danger and needs you: Frodo was hit by a wave of emotions and colors. In his minds eye, he saw a trail, a trail he knew would take him to Pippin. At the end of the path, he could see Pippin, an orc crouching over him, holding a long, cruel knife. Suddenly Frodo was aware of the goblin's purpose.  
  
:This is what will happen if you do not reach him in time.: Pippin was screaming now, and the knife plunged into his stomach. Frodo's eyes flew open.  
  
"We have to hurry!" he gasped out to the rest, who had gathered around the fallen ringbearer. After explaining to them what he had seen, Frodo led the group on a more northerly tack, with the directions imprinted in his head by the mysterious lady. When he had mentioned this to Strider, he had only given a mysterious smile, that left Frodo very puzzled.  
  
***  
  
Mistoffelees (lia_parisi@hotmail.com) 2002-07-24 8 Anonymous No one cares if it's a short chapter, really. ~hurts the orcs for hurting her Pippin~ DIEE! That voice was Galadriel, wasn't it? Or Elbereth..but I think it was Galadriel. I LOVE YOU, GALADRIEL! ~dies from happiness~  
  
Melanie 2002-07-17 8 Signed What a breather this chapter was. After Chapter 7, we needed things to slow down just a bit so we could gather our bearings.  
  
dizzy izzy 2002-07-16 8 Signed OMG!!!!!!!! what happens 2 pippin?!?!?! he doesn't lose any body parts does he? tell me he doesn't! that would be depressing!  
  
shirebound 2002-07-16 8 Signed All right, I was able to catch my breath a little with this chapter. Whew. 


	9. Found

Moria's Revenge, chapter 9: Found  
  
disclaimer: Not mine. Icefang is not even mine. She's Llinos' baby!  
  
As Pippin lay helplessly on the floor of the chief's room, Ice Fang had pawed and licked at him until he moved his head into her belly. She then took the hobbit by the neck collar in her teeth, like a mother animal lifts its young by the scruff and dragged him over to her spot by the bed. She fussed and arranged him in a curled position using her teeth to gently pull and her nose to nudge and then wrapped her body around the broken little form. The gag worried her mightily and she whined and pawed at it but did not have the skill to get it off.  
  
The Chief and the other orcs had been drinking whiskey and laughing at the prospect of removing the creature's entrails and looks on the faces of his friends when they found him. The Chief was watching the bitch out of the corner of his eye with interest and when she started to paw at the gag he pointed to the scene.  
  
"She's such a mother that bitch warg, I'll bet I know what's up with her."  
  
"Wassat Chief, she wanna eat the little rat?"  
  
"Naw - she'll be wantin' ter nurse it." He went over to Ice Fang and gently rolled her on her back and pulled at one of her teats. "See she's so desperate to mother it, she's making milk."  
  
"Heh that'd be funny - let her do it." Frugly suggested.  
  
"Yeah," The Chief agreed. "It ain't food exactly, an it'll keep it alive longer an' be good fer her." He pulled Pippin upright and roughly removed the gag, then shoved him back down. "Now hurry up 'cause this's goin' back in five minutes." Pippin had trouble closing his aching jaw, and forcing sound through his dried out and abused mouth.  
  
"What must I do, please, Master?" Pippin remembered the title but was mystified as to what his unpredictable master wanted.  
  
"Yer a little Dogwhore, ain't yer?" The Chief kicked him.  
  
"Yes Master." Pippin whispered looking down at the floor, he was beginning to believe it.  
  
"An yer hungry, ain't yer?"  
  
"Yes Master." Ice Fang nestled round him again and, using her muzzle, pushed his head down into her belly.  
  
"Yer can suckle on yer step-mother." Frugly laughed, slapping his thighs at the hilarity.  
  
"Yer'd better," the Chief threatened. "Or go upsettin' my bitch an' I'll pull yer legs out o' their sockets, too!"  
  
Pippin obediently wrapped his mouth around the warg's teat and sucked gently. He was rewarded with a steady stream of warm milk. The taste was not exactly what he was used to but it was wonderful to the starving, thirsty hobbit, and it washed the taste of the orc from his mouth. Icefang contentedly licked his still bleeding back and shoulders. When Pippin was done, he snuggled into her belly and passed out.  
  
***  
  
Frodo was up at the front of the company with Legolas. The elf had better night sight than he did, and kept the hobbit from treading wrong. The elf had also explained why Aragorn trusted the female voice in his head. //Though I'm not to keen on being directed by a sorceress, even if she is an elf.// They had passed the hot spring Gimli and Legolas had washed Pippin's garments in, but they still had many miles to go. The disturbing vision provided by this "Lady of the Wood" appeared to him every time he closed his eyes. Frodo stepped up the pace a bit.  
  
***  
  
Pippin was woken by a commotion. The chief was yelling at his henchmen for some reason, and in Pippin's state it was hard for him to make out what they were babbling about.  
  
"But chief, we was drunk like you!" Frugly protested.  
  
"I don' care if'n yer 'ad passed out from a 'shroom, I told yer ter take the Dogwhore out when the sun went down! It's been down fer hours an' jus' now yer wake me up?"  
  
"But-"  
  
"NO MORE 'BUT'S! Ah'm gonna hafta give this mission ter some son of a warg Ah c'n trust ter do it prop'ly. Crugsyl'll do it right!"  
  
"Give it ter a common goblin? But-"  
  
"WHAT DID AH TELL YER!" At this, the three uruks decided to cut thier losses and stay out of the way of the chief's wrath. They scurried out the door, leaving it ajar. Skor stuck his head in.  
  
"Er, chief? Yer be needin' anything?"  
  
"Yes! Send for Crugsyl! Tell him I have a job fer 'im I think he'll enjoy!"  
  
***  
  
Merry's legs, lungs, and heart ached. They had been trudging on for what seemed like days, with Frodo setting an ever-increasing pace. But he took strength from the thought that they might be going to where Pippin was. However, part of it dreaded what they might find, even if they got there on time.  
  
Ever since Legolas had explained what had happened to poor Pip, Merry had been trying not to imagine what abuse like that might do to one. He had also been trying to not think about what worse torture could possibly be inflicted on his defenceless cousin. Whenever Merry tried to imagine Pippin's sweet, innocent face, a look of terror would blight Pip's fair features before a shadow blotted him from Merry's sight. Merry felt his throat constrict, and tears blurred his vision. he felt so lonely without Pippin. Merry had often wanted to tell Pippin just how much he loved him, but had never got around to it. There was always a field to plunder, bars to hop, or an "adventure" to go on.  
  
Merry stumbled. A strong hand caught him before he hit the ground. Strider smiled down at him, then frowned and wiped away the tear that had escaped Merry's eye.  
  
***  
  
Pippin was lifted and thrown unceremoniously over Crugsyl's shoulder. Lugsta was with him. Being this close to his two original tormentors made him quake with fear. The chief had just finished giving them thier instructions. They were to go to a spot a little north of the cave mouth, to the "blood stone". There they were to cut him open, and one would string his entrails out, while the other would lead the rest of Pippin's group to the end of them. The metal gag was forced into his mouth, this time cranked as tight as it would go with out breaking his jaw. But the chief gave them permission to do that if they had time. he also sent along Icefang to guard them.  
  
The chief secretly thought it would be amusing for his bitch to keep trying and baby the little creature, even when it's innards were trailing through the forest. The chief was also amused at how the little creature was so trusting that it did not think through any of his statements. It had been easy to get it to the state where he could tell it anything and it would believe it. Like the stone in the well, for instance. It had not even thought about how the chief could have possibly known who threw it. Orcs had actually been spying on the Fellowship for quite some time, and had reported who threw the stone to the chief. The huge uruk chuckled at his plot.  
  
***  
  
Crugsyl made his way through the forest, towards the clearing where the Bloodstone was. His shoulder was starting to get stiff where he carried the little thing.  
  
"Oy, Lugsta!" He called to the orc, who was leading Icefang. "Yer want ter trade?" Lugsta laughed.  
  
"Yer should'na been so eager ter tek 'im, Crugsie! Har!" Crugsyl grumbled something dark under his breath.  
  
"Ere!" He yelled, throwing Pippin off his shoulder to land in a heap on the ground. "Yer walkin! Ah'm tireda carryin' yer worthless arse!" He kicked Pippin until Pippin staggered to his feet.  
  
Pippin's rear burned whenever he moved his tired legs, but he had no choice. Crugsyl jerked him along on the spiked collar. Pippin's arms were useless and still tied with the scarf, so he could not use them for balance. Icefang whined whenever he stumbled or fell.  
  
"Har, har!" Lugsta bellowed. "'S jus' like the chief said! She think it's 'er pup! Har, har!"  
  
At this, they rounded a corner, and went through a narrow passage between two rocks. Pippin's heart thundered. The clearing was not the same one where he had been ravished, but it was similar enough that he started to panic. In the center a large, flat, ractangular stone jutted up from the sandy floor. A groove was cut around the edge of the top surface, and dark stains mottled the grey limestone. All around the rock walls horrible signs were cut, with crude images from nightmares. Pippin shut his eyes.  
  
***  
  
Sam brought up the tail of the sadly diminished Fellowship. He had been trying to hide how much he missed Mr. Pippin, but it was getting harder. The thought of some of the horrible things Ted Sandyman would scare him with when he was a child happening to poor Mr. Pippin sent icy claws to grip his heart.  
  
He knew it was not proper for a servant to feel such an attachment to a hobbit of a higher class who was not his master, but after all of the experiences they had shared, Sam had begun to view himself as belonging to all of them. This meant that he should have protected Mr. Pippin better. As an older and more experienced hobbit, it was his duty. Mr Frodo could not be expected to look out for them. He had that cursed ring to worry about. And the others were concerned only with the ringbearer.  
  
It was only about half an hour to dawn. This meant that the coldest part of the night was upon them. Even the thick fur on Sam's feet could not keep out the cold that came with the early morning dew, and he kept stubbing his toes on rocks. Though because his feet were cold and numb now, he knew they would be sore when the sun warmed the earth below. The sun. Sam felt an unfamiliar dread at the thought of it. Whatever the orcs were planning to do to Mr. Pippin, they would do it before sunrise. Of that he was sure. They had to hurry.  
  
***  
  
Crugsyl threw Pippin up onto the rock, while Lugsta tethered Icefang to a hook set in a stone on the perimeter of the clearing.  
  
"Want ter break it's jaw, Lugsta?" Crugsyl asked.  
  
"Yer know we don't have time! It's not 'alf an 'our till sunup, an' we've got ter be done by then!" Lugsta replied, drawing a long. serated knife and advancing towards Pippin. Pippin whimpered around the gag and squeezed his eyes shut. The knife glinted in the starlight. Lugsta placed it against Pippin's midsection, and Crugsyl held him down.  
  
At the touch of the cold steel, Pippin froze. //I'm gonna die.// He thought. He wished he could have seen Merry again, just once. But no, it was better this way. Merry should not be defiled by a filthy slut like him. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and traced his hairline, before dripping into his ear, and becoming a mild, tickling annoyance. //I hope this doen't hurt too much.//  
  
Lugsta pressed the knife into the pearly skin of Pippin's stomach and sliced.  
  
Pippin screamed in agony as he felt his skin part to the vicious blade.  
  
*** Gimli watched his feet carefully. They were in more limestone now, and small springs and loose rocks threatened to trip the unwary one. he desparatley hoped that the witch in Lothlorien was guiding Frodo well. Whatever Legolas or Aragorn said, he was still not quite inclined to trust some elf wench in a golden tree, or whatever it was.  
  
A scream of pain ripped through the predawn silence of the rocks.  
  
Gimli's heart leapt to his throat even as he lept forwards, weilding his axe. Legolas placed an arrow on his bow as he bounded up the trail with Gimli, and Aragorn drew Anduril as he kept pace with them. Boromir was already several yards ahead. They left the struggling hobbits in their wake, Merry cursing his short legs and breath with words Frodo had not even known he knew. Merry soon outdistanced both he and Sam.  
  
***  
  
Lugsta was preparing to cut the rest of the way through Pippin's skin, when Crugsyl made an odd sound. Lugsta looked up. An arrow had passed through Crugsyl's neck, and he was clutching at it and gurgling. Before Lugsta had anytime to process this, a war cry that chilled his already cold heart sounded from the entrance behind him.  
  
***  
  
Boromir had bounded up the rough cut steps towards the gap in the rocks from which the scream had come. Legolas, with his elven sight, had loosed an arrow which breezed by Boromir's ear as he stepped into the clearing. When he looked in, he had never been so scared in his entire life.  
  
An orc was standing poised over a small wreck of a hobbit body, with a long, cruel knife. A knife that was dripping blood. Blood flowed from Pippin's stomach, and a harsh metal device marred his guileless face. Boromir yelled out his war cry, and charged forwards. He sliced off the orc who was nearest's head, leaving an arc of ichor droplets in his sword's wake. He belatedly realized that this was the orc whom Legolas had shot. Boromir saw a flash of steel out of the corner of his eye. He ducked to the side and rolled, the orc's knife glancing off his shield which he raised just in time.  
  
A dwarven roar of rage sounded behind him, and the sound of metal on metal.  
  
***  
  
Lugsta then realized that he was soon going to be hopelessly outnumbered. He dodged the dwarf's axe and scrambled up the side of a rock, like a huge spider. As he ran back to the caves' entrance, he tried to think of what to tell the chief that would not get him instantly killed. Or worse, not instantly killed.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn leapt into the ring just in time to see the orc disappear over the edge of the rocks. His eyes were brought downwards by Boromir's cry. The worrior of Gondor was kneeling by Pippin's still form, tears running down his cheeks. A cruel metal gag was in Pippin's mouth, and a collar was around his neck. Blood dripped from a gash across his stomach. A strangled cry sounded behind him, and Merry rushed past. Aragorn reached out to try and stop him, but was too slow.  
  
Merry threw himself at the still form of his cousin, sobbing. he only wanted to hold Pippin in his arms and have Pippin tell him that he was alright. At the sight of his cousins perfect face being twisted by the metal gag Merry's sobs redoubled, and he reached out to try and take it off.  
  
Boromir grabbed his hand before he could touch it.  
  
'Be careful, Merry! I have unfortunately seen these before. Any movement will cause pain." and then to Legolas, who was standing in stunned silence, he barked, "Quickly! Search the orc! Perhaps the key to this is in that one's possesion!" While Legolas turned Crugsyl's headless body over trying to locate any keys, Aragorn had walked up an was feeling Pippin's pulse. after a couple of heartwrenching moments he felt the sluggish beat against his fingers.  
  
"He's alive." There was an audible sigh of relief. A scrambling sound at the entrance drew thier attention. Frodo and Sam had just arrived, puffing with exertion. But at the sight of Pippin, both moved faster than Aragorn had thought hobbits could move across the clearing. Frodo took one of Pippin's hands in his own, and began to weep over it, telling Pippin that if he died, Frodo was going to kill him. Aragorn did not think it was such a good idea for Pip's arms to be handled, they stuck out at odd angles, almost as if... his breath caught in his throat. Pippin's arms were dislocated, and tied with the scarf he wore everywhere. Suddenly a low whine made everyone freeze. Tied to a rock was a large white warg. It was straining against the end of it's tether looking at Pippin and whining. Gimli swore, and sprang up, wielding his axe. He was about to bring it crashing down on the cowering wolf when a shriek ripped from Pippin. In the only display of life the little hobbit had shown, Pippin was breathing hard and his gray-green eyes were fixed on Gimli. He struggled against his bonds and yelled through the gag again. Aragorn held Pippin firmly down. He had to keep him calm, and appraise his injuries before they could think about moving him.  
  
"Gimli," he said, "leave it alone. It is tied and of no risk to us right now. Perhaps I can find out why Pippin is reacting that way." Legolas then raced forwards with a ring of keys in his hand.  
  
"The first thing to do is get that horrid gag out." After several unsucessful attempts to fit various keys in the lock, during which Pippin moaned whenever the gag was jostled, the lock opened, and Aragorn gently lifted it out of Pip's mouth. The hobbit did not seem to realize he had been freed at first, but when Merry reached out and began stroking his face, and begging him to say something. Pippin forced his abused mouth closed, and blearily looked at Merry from under half closed eyes.  
  
"Merry?" Pippin whispered. Then his head fell to the side and his eyes closed. Aragorn began praying to the Valar that they were not too late.  
  
***  
  
St.CathrineEvangelineWoodsorel 2002-09-27 9 Signed Oh my God, my heart was pounding during this one! The only thing I don't like about this story is the way you portray Sam. I know he's a "servant" and all, but to have him think that he belonged to them (the Fellowship) all? I dunno, that seems a little ignoble to me. Sam is more than a servant to the Fellowship. Other than that, this is great! I just really hope you're not going to give Pippin brain damage or turn him insane, rocking back and forth and mumbling.  
  
Java D. 2002-08-22 9 Anonymous I love Icefang!!! And Pippin!! *falls over* Hi ground..  
  
Eh sorry.. I love this story!!  
  
Mistoffelees (lia_parisi@hotmail.com) 2002-07-24 9 Anonymous Be happy! Be VERY happy! ~makes Kookaburra as happy as she could possibly be~ Be VERY, VERY happy! ~sobs pathetically~ ORCS SHOULD DIE! No, no they shouldn't die, they should be tortured and then made to beg for death. Yesss...deeeeeaaaathh..~cackles~ Sorry about that..~sob~ I can't say anything about this chapter..too..depressing..~hysterical crying~  
  
Melanie 2002-07-17 9 Signed Wow, what can I say that Niere hasn't already said?  
  
Again Ice Fang ... I love her! I have to say that she is by far my fav. original character that any fanfic author has created. I do hope you have her join the Fellowship on their journey instead of sending her back to that awful place she's called her home.  
  
Now onto the best part of the story. In my opinion anyway. I cannot wait to see how Pippin each going to act or feel around the other members of the Fellowship. ... particularly Merry.  
  
Niere 2002-07-17 9 Signed This seems pretty much the same. OK, I didn't compare it word-for-word.  
  
The thing I hate about on-line reviews is they are so short or generalized. You can't tell the reactions to the different parts of the story. I try to aleviate that by taking notes while reading on my reactions and what comes to mind while I read. (this is easier on the other site. the story is there to leave lines in for response) Anyway, here goes:  
  
-I liked Ice Fang comforting Pippin, to the best of her ability. I wish it could have been more.  
  
-*No, Pippin, don't believe it!!*  
  
-Mother's milk was the best thing for Pippin right then. It is complete nutrition in liquid form. Easy to take in and easy to digest. Just what his poor abused body and system needed.  
  
-I liked that, short legged Frodo setting the pace for the longer legged members. I could see them having a difficult time 'keeping up'.  
  
-*singing* the orcs are in trouble, the orcs are in trouble (GOOD, they need to be!!)  
  
-OK, Merry, it's about time you 'got around to it'! TELL HIM!! He really needs to hear it, especially now!!  
  
-(hey, a new part!) I liked how Merry kept seeing Pippin's face and how it changed, then disappeared. Very good.  
  
-"It had been easy to get it to the state where he could tell it anything and it would believe it." Abuse will do that, especially mental abuse.  
  
-Making Pip walk, in his condition. My heart bleeds for him. *sob*  
  
-Poor Pippin. I understand his panic. The site being so close in nature to the one where he was first hurt so badly.  
  
-No, Sam. You don't 'belong to' them, you are 'one of' them. Classes no longer exist in this situation.  
  
-I still want to know how the hobbits survive Caradhras in the 'snow' if Sam's feet can't take the 'chill' now?  
  
-I am sooo glad that they didn't 'have time' to break Pip's jaw. How would they heal that with the medical knowledge in Middle Earth? It is hard enough now.  
  
-*sob* No, Pip, you are not filthy, nor a slut. You are a victim!! YOU did not do this, THEY did!  
  
-RUN!!! YOU ARE CLOSE!!! GO GET HIM!!!  
  
-Uh, Frodo? You'd be surprised at the new words you learn in a crisis situation.  
  
-A deep cut, but not all the way through to the abdominal cavity? Good! Stitches will work (as will tight bandaging), but no handling of the intestines. No ileus problems, then. Nice way to get around that one.  
  
-Nice shot, Legolas! I'm glad he 'got his'!!  
  
-Uh, Boromir? *taps shoulder* Legolas already got that one. Try the other one.  
  
-(another new part) I hope he 'doesn't' get killed instantly. He deserves what he gets after the way he treated our little Peregrin.  
  
-Tell him, Merry! Tell him you love him! Tell him you need him! He needs to hear it!! Over and over again!!  
  
-Forget light-speed. Frodo and Sam have 'adrenaline-speed'!  
  
-I loved Frodo telling Pippin that 'if he died, he would kill him'! LOL!!!  
  
-DON'T HURT ICE FANG! Pippin cares for her, since she cared for him in that horrible place. (I just thought of something. It might be a good idea for her to come along. With the sad condition of Pip's mouth, he might need more of her milk later)  
  
-Luckily they killed the one with the keys. That would have been a real problem if they hadn't.  
  
-NOT too late! NOT too late! *chanting*  
  
I loved this just as much this time as I did the last 2 times I read it!!!!!!!!!!  
  
[Take Pippin to work. Let's see, I need:  
  
+steri strips (forget the sutures, they hurt)  
  
+IV fluids, probably IV feeding too(TPN-total parenteral nutrition) (parenteral=IV)  
  
+a PCA pump (patient controlled analgesia) demerol or morphine (sorry Pip, no poppy) IV. a continuous infusion and push-button bolus, controlled by him, for break-through pain.  
  
+gauze for bandages (paper tape, of course)  
  
+antibiotic ointment for his wounds  
  
+IV antibiotics for the STD's  
  
+qwell for the lice  
  
+Lots and Lots of TLC!!!!!!!!!!!!!] Niere  
  
Llinos 2002-07-17 9 Signed Here Icefang! C'mon girl! Come to Llinos... What a good warg! She's really Smagnu in lupine form, which is probably an improvement - well someone's gotta look after poor Pip.  
  
Well done Kookaburra, you managed to take him right to the brink and just grabbed him with your teeth before he fell into the abyss. Now it's all plain sailing - right? Right!  
  
shirebound 2002-07-17 9 Signed Thank goodness they found him! I can relax a bit more now. Poor little Pippin, however will they ease his physical and emotional trauma, and help him to know that he's not to blame for anything???  
  
LilyBaggins 2002-07-16 9 Signed Arrrrggh... want another chapter now! Ah, you can't leave it there! I'm thoroughly addicted to this story now! 


	10. Saved

Moria's Revenge, chapter 10: Saved  
  
Disclaimer: I do own these characters! Ha! They are doing my housework while I sit around and watch pigs fly.  
  
Warnings: Why the heck am I warning you? If you are reading this you obviously do not heed them anyway.  
  
Sorry I didn't update this repost for so long. I have no excuse except that I am lazy. *smile*  
  
Special Thanks: Debi: For answering my incessant medical questions at all hours of the night. *hug* Llinos: For all of her help, and the extra scenes. ;) To Everyone: You guys are so great, your feedback makes it all worthwhile! *huggles and bursts into tears, again*  
  
Merry held Pippin as tight as Aragorn would let him. Pippin smelled foul after being in orcish hands for so long, but Merry did not care. All he could think about was the small body in his arms. "It's all right now Pip, you're going to be all right, Strider will make you better, it's all right." Merry whispered the words over and over like a litany, whilst tried not to look down at Pippin's battered body.  
  
When he had first seen the blood dripping from his cousin's stomach, back, and covering his legs filling the channel cut in the rock, he thought he was going to be violently sick. Then the horrible metal thing had come out of Pippin's mouth, covered in blood too. But then Pip had said Merry's name, he felt as if they were the only two people in the world. Merry had always taken for granted that Pip would be with him, but the last few days and nights had shaken his belief, and he vowed that his cousin would know just how much he meant to Merry.  
  
Boromir held Pippin's head as he worked at the collar. The fastening was complicated, and he had discovered to his horror the spikes that dug into Pippin's flesh at every tug. Tears were running from his eyes as he looked at his young friend. Pippin's arms were at odd angles showing dislocation, and on his face were traces of semen and urine. Boromir also thought he spotted some lice or fleas infesting Pippin's curls. //Oh, Pippin. I can guess the torment they put you through and it tears my heart to think of it.//  
  
Pippin's eyes were half open, but they did not seem to register his friends' presence. Finally Boromir lost patience with the clasp, and took out his hunting knife to cut the leather. He was so focused on his work that he did not notice Pippin's eyes go wide with terror. But Merry did.  
  
"Boromir, the knife!" Merry whispered urgently. "You're scaring Pip."  
  
"I'm sorry little one." Boromir held the knife out of Pippin's sight. "Can you explain or distract him? I cannot see any other way to get this hideous collar off him."  
  
Merry took Pippin's face in his hands and looked into the scared, staring eyes, "It's all right Pip, no one is going to hurt you. I won't let them ever again. Boromir is going to take the collar off your neck, I promise you'll feel better."  
  
Boromir moved to above Pippin's head so he could not focus on him or the knife and, as Merry kept his face turned away, the warrior cut through the cruel leather at the back of Pip's neck.  
  
Aragorn looked up from examining Pippins' abdominal wound as he heard the leather drop to the sandy floor. He shuddered inwardly at the sight of the wounds on Pippin's neck where the spikes had dug in. Aragorn turned his attention back to the laceration. It would need stitching, but he had no idea where he would get the suturing material. They would probably have to sacrifice a hem of an old garment. If only he had thought to take some tail hairs from Bill before they had turned him loose!  
  
Deciding that the best he would be able to do until they camped again (as far away from this place as they could manage) would be to tightly bind the wound with some bandages he had originally brought for the pack pony, Aragorn turned his attention to the little hobbit's other wounds.  
  
Pippin's neck was not bleeding, but would also require bandages, as would his scored back. There were some horrendous burns on his sides and buttocks that looked to have been inflicted by a hot iron. The extensive bruising all over the hobbit's body made Aragorn's heart lurch, as he imagined the violence that would be needed to cause such injury to this innocent little creature. His arms would also have to be immobilized for transport. Aragorn went to the part of the examination he had been dreading, and moved to Pippin's lower regions.  
  
First the ranger looked up at the little one's face to see how conscious he was. Merry was still stroking and whispering to his cousin and Pippin's eyes were half open but glazed. He took Pippin's knees and spread them apart, lifting them as he did so.  
  
Aragorn winced. The damage to Pip's anus was severe, with abrasions and odd blisters that looked almost like burns, and there were the beginnings of lesions on Pippin's penis that suggested he had picked up some sort of disease. //Thank the Valar that hobbits do not have pubic hair, or Pippin would have a third site of infestation, in all likelihood. So far only Pippin's arms and stomach would need attention before he could be moved, which Aragorn wanted to do as soon as possible.  
  
Trading places with Boromir, Aragorn started to have a look at Pippin's mouth. //Who knows what horrible things besides the gag they've put in there.// He soon found out as he spotted the smear of orc seed on Pippin's lips. Aragorn eased the unresisting jaw open, and looked inside. There were more of the lesions here, as well. //We must get these cured before the madness takes hold.// And no doubt the other hobbits would want to hold Pippin and never let him go, but Aragorn would have to limit that until they got rid of the lice. //Oh, Pippin, I am afraid you are going to hate me for the things I am going to have to do to you.// But it would be better for the hobbits if they could do something for Pippin other than feel sorry.  
  
"Sam," Aragorn said gently. Sam raised his head from sobbing at Pippin's side, and looked at Strider with swollen eyes. "Do you remember the flannel bandages we brought from Rivendell for Bill?" Sam nodded. "Do you still have them in your pack?" At this Sam nodded again, and brightened a little. He rushed over to where he had thrown his pack and began rummaging through it. Aragorn turned his attention to Gimli. "Gimli, can you find the hot spring we passed coming here again?"  
  
"Aye, Master Elf and I stopped there before. Do you think it is far away enough to make camp?"  
  
"It is as far as I want to take Peregrin, and having a hot water source will be of great help. Can you and Boromir take Frodo, Sam and Merry there, and set up? Legolas and I can prepare Peregrin for travel, and we will make faster time in transit with just the three of us." Merry looked up in alarm.  
  
"I'm n-n-not leaving P-P-Pip! He-e needs m-me!" Merry choked through his tears. Aragorn sighed. The real reason he wanted the hobbits to go was that binding and carrying Pip with his wounds was going to be a painful but essential ordeal for the broken halfling.  
  
"I know you do not want to let him out of your sight, Meriadoc, but it would be better for Pip if you went ahead and got everything set up beforehand." Aragorn explained gently. Merry wanted to protest, but he knew Strider was right. He did not say anything, but held Pippin tighter.  
  
Frodo could dimly hear Strider giving instructions to Gimli and Boromir. The thought of going on without his littlest cousin, now that they had found him, grated on his soul. Yet he heard Bilbo's voice as from a distant time.  
  
"Trust yourself when you can't trust anyone else, but when someone knows more than you heed their words." Frodo lifted his head, let go of Pippin's hand, and hugged Merry.  
  
"Shhh, Merry. It will be all right; Strider and Legolas won't let anything happen to poor Pip now we've found him. Merry sniffled a little and reluctantly allowed himself to be steered away by Boromir, looking back all the way until he was out of sight. Gimli had already set off among the rocks.  
  
When they were gone, Legolas and Aragorn set to binding Pippin's wounds. They carefully arranged his arms at his sides and bound them tightly, placing a padding of gauze on the whip cuts on his back.  
  
Pippin was floating in a haze. He wanted to go deeper, but the pain was drawing him irresistibly towards the surface. As he became more aware, he felt strong hands binding his body tightly. Fear flooded his mind. //What are they going to do now?// He started to struggle.  
  
Legolas gave a cry of surprise when Pippin started to convulse and whimper. He held the hobbit by the shoulders and crooned soothing words into his ear. "Relax Pippin, don't fight little one, you're safe, you're safe, don't cry." Then turning to the ranger, "I do not think he can hear me, Aragorn!"  
  
Aragorn had been trying to bind Pippin's stomach to stop the serious bleeding, and was about to answer when a furry, hot weight hit him from behind, knocking him off his feet so that he landed face down on the sandy ground. Legolas moved quickly, circling round Pippin and picking up his bow and quiver in one smooth movement.  
  
Icefang had not been idle. She was surreptitiously gnawing through her leash while the two-leggers were messing with her cub. When her little one cried out in pain, rage swelled up inside of her and she snapped the chewed leash in one leap. Pouncing on the one closest to her, she whirled around to face them while straddling her cub and growling and snarling, her lips drawn up savagely to show her fangs.  
  
Aragorn had his sword drawn and Legolas had an arrow locked to his bow, but neither made a move for fear of striking Pippin. Legolas paused. Something did not seem right. The warg was acting as if it were protecting Peregrin. Not it. *she*. Then the wolf did something completely unexpected. She stopped growling as she sniffed at Pippin and then whined, nuzzled the motionless hobbit, and began licking his face.  
  
Aragorn had been prepared to jump forwards and kill the beast when it lowered its head, about to (he assumed) tear Pippin's throat out. But when it licked Pip's face, he realized it was not going to hurt him, but obviously thought she needed to protect him from them. Legolas reached out and brought Aragorn's arm down.  
  
"I think I might be able to thought link with her. It will let me find out why she is doing this, and possibly communicate that we are trying to help Pippin."  
  
"Thought link with an animal? Legolas, are you sure that's safe?"  
  
"No, but I have to try, otherwise we will not be able to get near Pippin without killing her and I think the little one would not want her dead."  
  
Aragorn looked dubious but agreed. Legolas performed the mind exercises that took elves to the mental state where they could link with others. He sent out a tendril of awareness to where he could feel the sink of violent anger of the wolf. Keeping his main mind carefully shielded, Legolas made contact. The flood of emotions lacked the organization of a sentient mind, but Legolas held firm, anchored by the link back to his own thoughts. He decided to explain to her in pictures.  
  
He showed Aragorn binding the wounds, and then a picture of Pippin unscathed. Repeating this several times, he then showed just the picture of Aragorn binding the wounds. The wolf then supplied the picture of Pippin well again. The environment of her thoughts was beginning to calm. There was no more anger, only frantic concern for her "friend"?... "master"...no "cub". She saw Pippin as her cub!  
  
Another flash of image passed from the warg to the elf and he saw her nestled around Pippin, the little form sleeping with his head on her belly as she licked his bleeding, sore back. Legolas opened his eyes and reached for the dangling leash, projecting an aura of calmness to her. He took hold of the leash and patted the warg on the head. She wagged her tail.  
  
"What is it Legolas?" Aragorn was pleased to see the elf back in the real world. "Did Pippin befriend this creature in some way?"  
  
"Not exactly," Legolas was very touched by the warg's obvious devotion to the vulnerable hobbit. "I think it was she that adopted him."  
  
"In what way?"  
  
"She sees him as her pup. He was very hurt and defenceless and she nursed him and took care of him as much as she could." Legolas smiled at the memory. "She has a very strong mothering instinct and in that filthy orc den was probably the only female Pippin came across."  
  
Icefang was now fully confident that these two strange beings would take care of her cub. She settled down while Aragorn finished wrapping up Pippin. He was half awake, trembling and crying quietly with hiccupping little sobs, but Aragorn regardless of the lice, stroked his curls every so often and kissed his brow as he whispered gentle words. "It's all right Pippin, all right, I've got you now, I won't let any harm come to you."  
  
When they wrapped him up in a blanket and turned to leave, Icefang stood up as well. This seemed to trouble them, and they paused at the entrance, making funny sounds to one another.  
  
"Should we take the warg?" Aragorn looked down at Pippin cradled in his arms, still awake and sobbing gently. "It's a fearsome beast and could be difficult to handle."  
  
"I think Pippin will be more upset if we leave her behind," Legolas pointed out. "I have the feeling she was the only creature that showed him any kindness during his captivity. He is going to be devastated if we turn her away."  
  
Finally the dark one shrugged and the green one bent down, picked up her lead, and they started off. Icefang was going with her cub, and she was content. 


	11. Nursed

Moria's Revenge, chapter 11: Nursed  
  
Author:Kookaburra  
  
Co-author: Llinos  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I do not even own the computer I'm typing this on.  
  
Thank you again to Llinos.  
  
A/N: All of the herbal remedies in here are for real. My sources were:  
  
Eduger, Philip.  
  
"How to Grow Herbs: A Sunset Book".  
  
Menlo Park: Lane Books,  
  
1975.  
  
Drs. Wallach, J.D. and Lan, Ma.  
  
"Let's Play Herbal Doctor! An American Home Herbal".  
  
Bonita: Wellness Publications, LLC,  
  
2001.  
  
My mom, who knows more about this stuff than anyone.  
  
Mabe, Rex E.  
  
"Gardening with herbs".  
  
Greensboro:Potpourri Press,  
  
1973.  
  
Brenzel, Kathleen.  
  
"Western Garden Book".  
  
Menlo Park:Sunset Publishing Corp,  
  
1995.  
  
Mackinnon, Pojar.  
  
"Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast".  
  
Vancouver: Lone Pine Publishing,  
  
1994.  
  
Herwig, Rob.  
  
"Healthy Houseplants".  
  
Tucson: H.P. Books,  
  
1979.  
  
House, Homer D.  
  
"Wild Flowers".  
  
New York: The Macmillan Co,  
  
1935.  
  
Niere, who answered all of my medical questions.  
  
Mainframe, who answered some more. *** DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TREAT YOURSELF WITH HERBS. DO SO ONLY UNDER A DOCTOR'S SUPERVISION. DON'T SUE ME IF YOU KILL YOURSELF.  
  
As Aragorn paced through the rocks, he tried not to jar the sobbing little hobbit in his arms. Pippin appeared dazed, and buried his face in Aragorn's coat. Legolas had tied the scarf snugly around Pippin's neck to protect the sores the collar had left. He shifted Pippin in his arms, mindful of the little one's injuries. At the movement Pippin looked up and his eyes opened a bit more as he whimpered.  
  
Pippin's vision cleared of mist, though it was still quite blurry. His other senses came around slowly. Strider was carrying him. What had happened? The orcs must have given him back to the Fellowship. He remembered now - Strider binding his arms tightly so that he could not move. What had he done to him then? The orcs would beat him or torment him so they could laugh at him. Is that what Strider was going to do. He didn't remember. Probably that had already happened. He knew his body had learned to shut down when the pain became too great, and then he would just wake up with more hurts than before. He hurt now. With every step the ranger took, Pippin felt a jolt of agony streak through his body. Strider must have beaten him so hard he had passed out again.  
  
Legolas walked ahead of Aragorn, keeping hold of the warg's leash. He looked around at the foliage. Birds were just starting to sing. A pang of loss hit him. He remembered when he was a small elf lad so long ago, and Mithrandir would tell him that the birds woke up the sun, and without them Middle Earth would be forever dark, as the sun was lazy. (That's why it moved so slowly).  
  
The elf did not think he would have been able to stand the loss of both Mithrandir and Peregrin. He reflected on the two seemingly opposites members of their Fellowship, the oldest and the youngest.  
  
The quest was Gandalf's whole reason for being on Middle Earth, to Pippin the quest was an adventure. //Though not such an adventure as of late.// Yet the two were incredibly similar. They were both playful, valued almost everything over gold, and noticed the little things.  
  
Legolas smiled at a memory from early in their journey. Pippin had spotted a pretty little green thrush in a shrub. It was so well hidden that even the elf had not noticed it until Pip pointed it out. Then Gandalf had got down on one knee to be at Pippin's level, and told the curious perian everything he knew about that species of bird. From then on, Pippin had pestered The Grey Pilgrim about everything they saw on their quest, from strange flowers, to interesting insects, and even rocks. Gandalf acted annoyed at the endless stream of questions, but Legolas could tell that he was very flattered to be viewed as all-knowing by the little one.  
  
Then Legolas remember sadly how devastated Pippin had been when his hero had shouted at him for his foolish stone dropping in Moria and how relieved everyone in the Fellowship had felt when Gandalf finally forgave him with a kindly word, sending the weary perian off to the corner to sleep.  
  
Stepping over a rock that thrust itself up in their path Aragorn wished he could carry Pippin in another position, without putting strain on his wounds. Strider's arms were getting tired and he was afraid of jolting the halfling through his own weariness.  
  
"Legolas," he finally called out, "would you carry Pippin for a while?" The elf stopped, and with some awkwardness they transferred the broken body to his arms.  
  
Pippin stirred slightly and looked up into the elf's face. He smiled kindly down at the frightened halfling. "Pippin, do not be afraid. Close your eyes and try to rest."  
  
Pippin struggled slightly in Legolas's gentle arms, causing the elf to grip him a little tighter. Why had Strider given him to Legolas, Pippin wondered frantically. He must have finished with him and now the elf wanted a turn, just as the orcs had passed him around. What had he whispered to him? ...be afraid... 'Please Legolas,' Pippin wanted to cry out but could not find his voice. 'please don't hurt me, not you.' Tears ran from his eyes and Legolas bent his head to kiss them away. 'no! not that!' Pippin remembered that the master had started his abuse by kissing him. Pippin buried his face in Legolas's tunic, trying to avoid further contact with his lips.  
  
He thought himself worthless when the orcs had used and abused him, but that was obviously just a prelude for what was to come. The evil ones had just been getting him ready for his real humiliation and degradation, which was to be at the hands of his comrades. He knew he was fit for nothing but this, but would it be too much to ask the Valar for death instead? Probably, he did not deserve such release.  
  
Aragorn took the warg's leash, and stretched out his muscles. He looked around. "I am going to be stopping frequently to search for healing herbs. My supply is thin, and the athelas is almost gone." Legolas nodded.  
  
"I have been noticing many varieties of plants that I do not believe are native to this area. The patches are quite regular."  
  
"I have seen this too. Perhaps this area was once inhabited farmland." The two companions walked in silence then, Aragorn scanning the sides of the trail for herbs.  
  
***  
  
Merry sat back on his heels and looked at the bedroll he had laid out for Pippin. It was padded with all of the blankets they had. Boromir and Sam fussed about in another part of the camp, setting up some medicines, as per Aragorn's instructions. Along the way, Sam had been running off a short distance and returning with hands full of plants. He refused to say what he was doing, and would only turn red if questioned intensely. So far he had quite a collection, of which only a few Merry recognized, those being peppermint, rosemary, lavender, onions and garlic. But what possible use they could be he had no idea.  
  
Frodo sat staring into the fire Gimli had lit. They were camped in a veritable water park, and it had been a trick to get dry kindling. Hot springs were everywhere, and the faint tang in the air indicated they were soda springs, too. Frodo sighed. Pippin had loved soda ever since some relatives from the north had brought some bottles for Yule. Frodo remembered watching in amusement with Bilbo as a seven year old Pippin giggled and sneezed from the shimmering bubbles.  
  
Frodo's arms and legs were cramping. In one night they had covered an incredible amount of ground. Then his job, when they went to prepare the camp was to haul hot water. He had filled all of Sam's pots and pans, and both the collapsible buckets with the stuff. Then Boromir had gone about, mixing medicines in them, which gave the whole glade an interesting aroma. A noise made him look up.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas had finally arrived. Aragorn's arms were full of plants and Legolas's were full of hobbit. Merry jumped up and rushed over, then followed Legolas back to the bedroll, where the elf tenderly placed Pippin, still wrapped in one of Bill's blankets. Legolas then placed his pack under Pippin's knees to elevate them and take the pressure off his laceration. Pippin was whimpering and crying again. Merry unabashedly lay down beside him, and with tears in his eyes began to hug and kiss his cousin, telling him that it would be all right, he was safe, and that Merry would never let anyone hurt him again.  
  
At the caresses, Pippin began to cry softly, and then jerk spasmodically against his bandages. He had awoken again to find himself being laid on the ground by Legolas. The elf must have done whatever he wanted and was now getting him ready for someone else. He felt his knees lifted and something placed underneath them. This was a new torture, but a familiar position. Who was coming for him now, it was too terrible to bear. Someone had begun to caress and kiss him so he opened his eyes. Not Merry! No please not that. How could Merry want to hurt him or do those terrible things to him? It was beyond belief. And yet he did believe it, that was what he was for now. It was his own fault and he deserved whatever happened.  
  
"Strider!" Merry called, fear in his voice. "Something's wrong with Pip!" And then to Pippin, "Please Pip, wake up! It's me, Merry, we're together again, everything's going to be fine, you'll see..."  
  
As Aragorn heard these words, his heart was saddened. Everything was not fine with Pippin, and might never be. If Pippin could pull through the day and the night, then there would still be mind trauma. He reach out and took Merry by the shoulders and drew him away. It was quite a challenge, the little hobbit was shaking with emotion and desperate to stay by his cousin but Aragorn finally managed to gently lift him away.  
  
"Peace, Merry, he is not in his right mind. He probably still thinks he is in the hands of the orcs. In order to keep him calm, we must not touch him unless it is necessary. Besides, I do not want to have to treat you for lice also."  
  
Merry sniffled a little, hiccupped a sob, stopped struggling, and nodded. Strider set him down, and went to take stock of their supplies. As Merry sat watching Pippin, he felt a hot breath on the back of his neck. Wondering who it was, he turned his head. His heart seemed to stop.  
  
The white warg that had been in the clearing stood behind him, growling low in it's throat.  
  
Aragorn was not as used to tying things up so that they could not escape as the goblins were, and it had been a moment's work for Icefang to free herself from the tree where she had been left. Aragorn had been planning on returning and retrieving her after he had explained to the others why they had taken her. He had already done so when Legolas had gone back to where she had been tied.  
  
At the moment Legolas was wondering where the warg had gone. He was sure it was this tree where they had left her...  
  
Shouts sounded from the campsite behind him. He turned on his heel and sprinted back. When he bounded up, he could see Merry backed up against a rock while Boromir brought his sword to bear on the warg, who was crouching down next to Pippin, her teeth bared.  
  
Legolas barely had time to throw out a mental "arm" and stopped Boromir from his blow in mid air.  
  
"Wait!" Aragorn's voice rang out. She means no harm!" Boromir lowered his arm and looked from the elf to the ranger and then back at the warg. She was now settling herself around the hobbit, nestling into him and licking at his face. For the first time Pippin seemed to relax and buried his face into her warm belly as the warg pushed his face further in, pressing her muzzle against the back of his head.  
  
Merry's mouth dropped open in astonishment as he saw his little cousin, the future Thain of the Shire, nuzzle into the wild animal and latch his mouth onto the beast's teat and begin to suckle. "Aragorn!" he cried in horror. "What's Pip doing with that wolf? Stop him!"  
  
Aragorn came and stood next to Merry and laid his hand on his shoulder. "No Merry, I think it is the best thing that he could possibly have right now." Merry looked up in confusion. Aragorn continued, "some motherly love and attention and warm milk in his belly."  
  
***  
  
Aragorn steeped the athelas in hot spring water. The first thing he was going to do was give Pippin a thorough bath. It would be therapeutic and help disinfect his injuries.  
  
Pippin had slept for quite a while snuggled up to the white warg and Aragorn was glad now that they had decided to bring her, although it did make treating Pippin slightly problematic as she was not keen to let others touch him. For Aragorn though she would make an exception. She knew from Legolas's mind pictures that he was trying to heal her cub and that she would allow.  
  
Once Aragorn had managed to extricate Pippin from her ministrations, Gimli had lured her away with some dried meat and they had tied her this time with a stick on the leash so that she could not reach the rope to chew through it.  
  
"Boromir, come help me with Pippin." Boromir supported Pippin's head as Aragorn lowered the tiny halfling partially into the water. Boromir spoke soothing words to Pippin as Aragorn gently washed him with a cloth. Pippin whimpered fearfully and struggled weakly in Boromir's strong arms, captive of dark dreams.  
  
"What do you suppose ails him, Aragorn? I speak but he doesn't hear, and when he does open his eyes and look at me, his face fills with terror."  
  
"I do not know for sure, Boromir. But I worry that in his struggles he may cause further harm to himself." Aragorn reached up to Pippin's head and began to wet down the curls with the washcloth. "I suspect he does not know where he is but believes he is still captive of the orcs."  
  
"Do you have any sedative you could give him, that would at least spare him from his dark dreams? It pains me terribly to see him suffering so."  
  
"I am afraid I have none. The only one I would feel comfortable using in his condition is amantilla, and of that I have none."  
  
"I consider myself well-versed in herb-lore, though not so well as you, and I have never heard of that."  
  
"In Gondor it is called valerian. I searched on the way here, but I did not see any."  
  
"M-Mr. Strider?" Aragorn felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked up from bathing Pippin. Then he looked down. Sam was gazing up at him. "I got some herbs on the way back too, nothing much, but I did go a bit off the path. I found some vandal-root. I don't know if it's safe, but me mum used to use it to help us sleep. Mayhap it'll help Mr. Pippin?"  
  
Aragorn looked like he'd been hit on the back of the head by a board. Then the first genuine smile in days broke on his lips.  
  
"My dear Samwise! I could kiss you! vandal-root is just another name for amantilla! Quickly, where is it?"  
  
Leaving Pippin in Boromir's arms and handing the washcloth to Merry, who had been hovering worriedly near the pool, Aragorn went over to Sam's pile of plants. Selecting one with a long green stem and small lacy, white flowers, Aragorn cut off the root with a small knife. He sent Sam to go and wash them. After a few moments of rummaging around in his pack, Aragorn drew out a pestle and mortar. When Sam brought the roots back to him, the ranger ground up the roots into a thick, pungent paste. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, Aragorn walked over to where Merry was now washing the filth from Pippin.  
  
"Here, Boromir. Support his head and back. I will give this too him on my finger."  
  
Boromir coughed a little at the odour.  
  
"My heart hurts for Pippin if the smell is anything to judge its taste by! I have smelled better things in my father's stables!"  
  
"I would have liked to sweeten it with honey, but unfortunately the bees are all asleep for the winter." Aragorn said wryly. "And Pippin must be calm, even if it means taking something that tastes like urine." Aragorn then covered one of his fingers in the paste and gently forced it into Pippin's mouth. "Come on, little one, just suckle it off. You'll feel much better, shhh..."  
  
Pippin was in the haze again, but could not see or move. He could hear snatches of phrases, but lacked the awareness to comprehend them fully. The hands that should have brought comfort as they washed the dirt of the orc den off only reminded him of goblin hands caressing him before... his mind shied away from the memory. There was too much, his mind in turmoil had reached saturation point. No, it had not happened, nothing had happened. If he did not remember it, it never was.  
  
Then a terrible smell assaulted his nostrils. It reminded him of how it smelled when the three uruks relieved themselves on him after they... but his consciousness denied that event too. It never happened.  
  
Then something forced itself into his mouth. He could not help remembering. Lugsta coming at him in the rocks, Frugly in Master's room, and the other one who also used him there. How it went on and on and he could not even escape into unconsciousness. It was as if it was happening over again, he could smell and taste their vileness, feel them scraping the back of his throat.  
  
"...little one..." Strider! He recognized the ranger's voice. "...just suck..." Then another voice came, but from his memory.  
  
//"Suck you little Dogwhore!"//  
  
Pippin remembered also the beating that had followed when he did not comply. Why was Strider using him like this?  
  
//"'Cause yer a worthless slut! Not good fer anythin' but this!"// Master's voice rang out in his mind.  
  
Now he remembered everything, it came tumbling back. The orcs had only been preparing him, getting him ready for the others to punish him as he properly deserved. The master had explained it. It was all his fault and whatever happened to him was his fault.  
  
Boromir uttered a strong oath when Pippin's whole body suddenly jerked. Even strong as he was, He had difficulty maintaining a grasp on Pippin's struggling form. Though almost as soon as Pip had started convulsing, he stopped, and huge tears began to roll down his cheeks, and he started to suck on Aragorn's finger.  
  
"Shh," Aragorn crooned, "that's right, Pippin, just relax, you're safe." Aragorn continued washing Pippin, thinking he had calmed the hobbit.  
  
When he had washed all of the dirt off Pippin, Aragorn laid him on a blanket on a flat shelf of rock by the water's edge. Tearing a small piece of fabric from his cloak, Aragorn wadded it up and placed it between the sedated halfling's teeth.  
  
"Why are you doing that, Strider?" Merry asked. The hobbit had been suspiciously demanding information about all aspects of the treatment that his cousin was to receive.  
  
"I am going to have to suture the laceration." At Merry's confused look, he added, "Stitch the cut on his tummy. It will be very painful, and Pippin will likely bite down, unconscious or no. The cloth is to protect his teeth and gums. I will also have to relocate his arms, another painful ordeal." Merry looked at his cousin wistfully.  
  
"What can I do to help?"  
  
"Just be here for Pippin, and hand me things when I need them. Now, keep an eye on Pip while I go and get things ready."  
  
Aragorn walked over to the fire, where a pot of boiling water waited with his instruments sterilizing in it. As he began to unravel his cloak, Frodo looked up in concern.  
  
"What are you doing, Strider?" Aragorn sighed inwardly.  
  
"I am going to use this as suturing material for Pippin. Unfortunately I did not have the foresight to harvest some of Bill's tail hairs before we let him go."  
  
"Oh dear, is there nothing better?" Frodo looked up at the ranger anxiously. "Poor Pip." Aragorn felt another cautious tug at his sleeve.  
  
"Mr. Strider?" It was Sam again.  
  
"What is it, Sam?" Aragorn said more abruptly than he meant to, he was worried about having to perform surgery on the vulnerable halfling while so ill-equipped.  
  
"Will these do, Mr. Strider?" Aragorn looked down. Sam was holding up a braided lock of hair. Horsehair, to be exact.  
  
"Sam! Where did you get those?" Aragorn was beginning to wonder if there was anything this hobbit did not have.  
  
"Um, well," Sam turned pink, "when we let poor Bill go, I thought I'd make a bracelet or something, well, to remember him by." Sam turned even pinker. "I always wanted a pony when I was a little boy, and it seems to me that Bill was the closest I'd ever get."  
  
"Sam, these will be perfect. Thank you." Aragorn threw the bracelet into the boiling water. While he was waiting for the items to sterilize, he went back over to Merry and Pippin. 


	12. Stitched

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 12: Stitched  
  
Disclaimer(s): 1) I do not own LotR or any characters. 2) Although I try to keep my treatments accurate, DO NOT TRY THEM AT HOME. ONLY USE HERBS UNDER PROFESSIONAL SUPERVISON.  
  
But, yes, these are actual herbs, I have used the old english names however.  
  
Aragorn looked over Merry's shoulder at Pippin. The injured halfling was motionless except for the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest. The ranger just hoped he had used enough amantilla to keep Pip under while being sutured. A movement at his elbow caught his attention.  
  
"Mr. Strider? I've got the garlic ready." Sam stood at Aragorn's elbow holding up a small dish filled with a yellowish white paste.  
  
"That's perfect Sam. Just set it down on the rock. Now, could you fetch me the boiling pot?" Sam scurried over to the fire and brought back the pot that was sterilizing the instruments. Aragorn drained out the water and carefully arranged them on a towel next to Pippin. Sam's eyes grew wide at the array of large, pointy, metal objects. Aragorn sighed. They did seem rather crude for one so delicate and small as Pippin, but they were the best he could offer.  
  
Merry was holding Pippin's limp hand as tight as he dared. He longed to hold Pip in his arms, but Strider had said that was bad. He watched as Aragorn took a cloth that had been boiling in the pot with the suturing materials. Aragorn unwrapped the now soaked bandages from Pippin's midsection as well as the constricting bandages from his dislocated arms which were also wet.  
  
Merry's breath caught in his throat as he saw the jagged bleeding tear in Pippin's once flawless skin. He turned his head quickly away, and a small cry escaped his throat.  
  
"I know it looks terrible Merry," Strider tried to reassure him. "But once it is sewn together it should heal quite well. Nothing inside has been damaged as far as I can tell."  
  
Pippin's eyes fluttered open and he half looked at Aragorn, not really seeming to register that the ranger was there. Aragorn shook his head in frustration. He had hoped that the amantilla would keep Pippin unconscious whilst he sewed up the wound. He did not dare to give him more, it was so hard to gauge the right amount for a halfling, particularly one as weak as Pippin was at the moment. But he also did not want to delay the procedure any longer. The wound was still seeping blood especially after the bandages had become soaked in the hot spring while Pippin was bathed.  
  
Pippin looked dimly at Strider. He wondered what his next punishment would be. He hoped it would not be so painful this time, maybe he would not hurt him, just humiliate him in some way. Perhaps it would be a whipping, that was bad, but not as bad as some of the other things he had had done to him.  
  
Gimli, Frodo and now Sam were tending the fire and preparing food for the others and the Ranger preferred to keep the other halflings away from poor Pippin's treatment as much as he could. Aragorn called to Boromir and Legolas and they came over at once. "I need to suture the wound now, but the little one is stirring, I fear the pain I will cause him and that he may move and jolt my hand."  
  
Legolas and Boromir moved into Pippin's field of vision. This was obviously going to be a big punishment as they were all gathering and obviously wanting to join in. He had been untied and that was a bad sign, it usually meant abuse of his body in the horrible way, instead of just a beating. //Oh let it just be a beating,// Pippin thought desperately.  
  
"I can hold him still," Boromir suggested, "Although is there nothing you can do to alleviate the pain?"  
  
"The garlic will help numb the area where the sutures will pierce the skin. I greatly fear that any more stress will be too much for him to bear."  
  
"But you must mend this cut soon." Legolas pointed out. "I think without that done, healing will be impossible." The elf moved to just above Pippin's head. "I will send a soothing message while Boromir holds him still, we will make it as easy as we can, but surely you must act now Aragorn."  
  
Pippin wondered why they were taking so long to start. They were obviously planning something really bad. His head felt muzzy and thick, perhaps they had fed him one of those horrible mushrooms again and he didn't remember.  
  
"Yes," the Ranger agreed. But before he continued, he knelt before Merry and took his hands in his. "Merry, I do not want Pip to associate you with this procedure in any way. I am not sure if he knows what is happening to him at the moment and the less you are involved with anything which may hurt him the better."  
  
"No Aragorn," Merry shook his head firmly. "I must stay by Pippin. Please do not send me away just because you are forced to hurt him for his own good. I would not be able to face him later if he thinks I deserted him at such a time. Please let me stay and hold his hand and be with him. I promise not to get upset."  
  
The ranger considered this for a few seconds before answering. "All right, but if you stay you must help." Merry nodded with obvious relief he was not to be banished. "You may hold his hand but you must also pass these instruments to me as I ask for them. Count them from the left, one, two, three, four, five and I will tell you the number of which I want. But do not touch the top part of any one. Can you do that?"  
  
"Of course, I will and thank you Aragorn." Merry took Pippin's hand in his, positioning himself so that he could also reach the sterilised instruments. Pippin did not react to Merry taking his hand but merely looked vacantly at the other hobbit.  
  
//Merry, it's Merry what is he going to do to me?// Pippin shuddered a little at the thought of his cousin, who used to love him before this happened, helping the others to punish him. But then he deserved it. After what the orcs had done, after what he had done with the orcs what more could he expect from Merry? Of course he hated him now, of course he had to punish him, it was all he could do.  
  
Aragorn now applied some numbing herbal paste to either side of Pippin's wound as gently as he could. Pippin looked up at him, still with the vacant expression.  
  
Strider was putting something on him now, it hurt horribly but Pippin tried not to move, in fact he couldn't move, someone, Boromir he thought, was holding him tightly, just as the orcs had held him down when they... when they...  
  
//Pippin, hear my words.// Pippin jumped slightly. The voice was not outside, it seemed to be inside. He didn't like it. They must have given him a mushroom again. That made everything seem unreal. //Pippin, be at peace...// the voice again //...nooooo!! don't! Leave me alone.//  
  
Pippin's mental scream made Legolas retreat swiftly. "I cannot make mental contact with him," he explained to Aragorn, "It is frightening him too much. You will just have to hope the herbs will be enough."  
  
"Very well." Aragorn's face was grim as he picked up the pan with the garlic paste in it. At Merry's suspicious glance he explained, "This is to disinfect the wound, and it will help to numb the pain. There are probably quite a few pieces of dirt from the filthy orc blade lodged in the cut, and they must come out or we risk an infection, possibly even gangrene." Strider dipped the cloth in the paste and carefully began to clean the cut from the centre outwards.  
  
Pippin's body arced in pain, and a howl of agony broke from his lips. Boromir was hard put to keep him still, and in the end had to almost lie on top of Pippin to keep the terrified halfling from jolting Aragorn. Boromir stroked Pippin's hair and tried to tell him that everything would be all right, he was safe now, and even though he was hurting, they were doing everything they could to take it away.  
  
Pippin stared at Boromir in terror, the big man was on top of him, he could not breathe just like when... Now Pippin really started to panic. //no, Boromir, please, you're too big no I can't do it...// At this, Pippin's frantic mind started to shut down in an attempt to save him from the experience he knew was going to follow.  
  
Boromir breathed a sigh of relief when Pippin stopped struggling and his eyes closed. Boromir sat up, but kept his hands on Pip's shoulders to be ready should the little one awake suddenly. The man of Gondor had an inkling of what was truly troubling Pippin, but he did not dare to tell the others. That would just make them more nervous of treating Pip. Although he was certain Aragorn already knew, but the ranger was strong enough to do what had to be done. Boromir had come into contact with many victims of such abuse in his role as Captain of the Guard on Minas Tirith. Pippin was exhibiting all of the symptoms of the mind sickness they often got after being used in such a way. He could only hope that it was reversible in hobbits.  
  
Aragorn had finished cleaning the cut and he picked up the first sharp instrument with which to make a hole in Pippin's skin. He did not have a proper suturing needle but planned to thread the tail hair through matching holes on either side of the cut and draw the skin together and tie it off. He thought he probably needed about five of these sutures which would be ten tiny incisions in Pippin's skin, each excruciatingly painful.  
  
The Ranger pressed down on the awl. Blood welled up around the puncture.  
  
Merry cried out. Aragorn looked at him in annoyance.  
  
"Meriadoc, if you cannot keep yourself under control, you may not be involved."  
  
"I-I'm s-s-sorry, Stri-der, but my hand..." Merry's eyes pinched shut and Aragorn could see tears of pain welling up in them. He looked down at where Merry's hand was clasping Pippin's. His breath caught.  
  
Pippin's hands were white knuckled and crushing Merry's. That had to stop. Such force would be extremely bad for the dislocations. Aragorn quickly reached over and prised Pippin's fingers from Merry's hand. Although Merry protested, Aragorn insisted, and he laid Pip's arm down by his side.  
  
Aragorn began to make the other punctures. Merry was doing better than he had thought he would. Hobbits were truly amazing. They had gone from being pampered and naive to helping with gruesome field surgery in a few short months. Pippin's stomach muscles spasmed at every hole, but he did not appear to be conscious.  
  
Finally all ten holes were complete, and Aragorn prepared to lace them together.  
  
"Merry, hand me a hair and number two." Merry gave him a strand of Bill's hair and the latch hook designated as number two. Aragorn tied the end of the hair in a loop, and opening the latch, slid it up through the middle opening, so it was protruding above the skin. Merry shut his eyes. Aragorn then secured the loop of hair onto the hook and closing the latch, drew it through the hole. He then unhooked the hair, and withdrawing the hook, prepared to put it though the hole opposite of the one he had just threaded, this time from the top. Merry knew better than to watch this time. Aragorn used the awl as a probe, and secured the hair on the hook, and latched it closed with it, to avoid touching the clean instrument with his dirty hands. When he had the hair through both holes, he expertly used the awl and hook to pull it tight and tie it off.  
  
"Merry, take these and hand me number three." Merry carefully took each bloody instrument by the handle and set them in order on the cloth, and handed Aragorn a pair of tiny shears. Aragorn used them to cut off the long ends of the hair.  
  
Working outwards from the centre stitch, Aragorn soon had the wound closed. After he had treated the other wounds in the area, he would give Pippin a sweet weed tea to help stop the bleeding.  
  
Pippin woke again. //What had they done to him? He hurt, hurt, hurt.// His belly was so painful he couldn't sense any other part of his body. He had no arms or legs, no head even. All the chorus pain from his being had diminished behind this one great cacophony of agony in his middle. He so wanted it to go away. If he could have died to escape it that's what he would have done. Instead he moaned a tiny cry that gradually grew into a pitiful keening sound.  
  
"Oh Pippin my sweet, please don't cry!" Merry wrung his hands in anguish. "I know it hurts. But it's to make you better." Merry was crying, large tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
Pippin's little whine grew more intense, he could no longer sob, he did not have the energy in his body. His eyes were open and staring vacantly at Merry, not understanding why his cousin could look on and not try to stop the pain. He felt his own wet tears run down the side of his face.  
  
Then Merry said something. This was to make him better. That would never be possible, not now. He was a bad, bad hobbit and had done bad things, nothing could make him a better hobbit. That was why he was being hurt. Merry thought it would make him better again, but it was too late for that. Poor Merry, perhaps he didn't know how bad he was.  
  
Suddenly another noise joined Pippin's small whine of agony. A loud mournful howl cut across the glade, swiftly followed by another. Gradually the howls matched the steady rhythm of Pip's keening whine.  
  
"Aragorn, the warg," Gimli came over to where Pip lay. "I cannot quiet her."  
  
"No, she is feeling the little one's pain." Legolas put in. "I doubt she will be distracted from his suffering."  
  
Sam and Frodo were standing by the wailing animal now. She had become quite tame to the Fellowship once she realised that they did not mean to harm her or her pup. "Hush Icicle." Sam had named her Icicle because of her ice white coat. He laid his kindly hand on her thrown back head. "Be still, there's a good warg." But now she could hear Pippin crying and she would not be consoled.  
  
"Let's take her to see Pippin." Frodo suggested. "It may calm her a little."  
  
They untied the leash and led the anxious warg over to Pippin who was still whining in agony.  
  
"Don't let her too near," Aragorn warned. He was preparing to feed Pippin the sweetweed tea that he needed. "There is a great risk of infection at the moment, especially until I have bound this wound again."  
  
Aragorn lifted Pippin's head slightly and put the cup to his lips, but the hobbit turned his head away, letting the hot tea splatter on Aragorn's hand and on his own chest. "Sam, could you fetch me a spoon," Aragorn asked. "That might be easier."  
  
Sam passed Icefang's leash to Frodo and ran off to find a spoon. The warg tried to jerk forward at the change of master to reach her pup, but Frodo managed to hold her back.  
  
Pippin could hear Icefang now, she was still howling every so often, but the cries were now interspersed with whines. He turned his head towards the sound. There was the white coated warg. His only friend, the only one that did not hurt him or try to make him better, because that could not be done. She loved him no matter what. She tried to comfort him when others hurt him and she fed him when others starved him. Pippin did not think these thoughts through in any rational way, he just had a general sense that he had to be with the warg.  
  
He stopped keening and started to mouth desperately, looking frantically from Aragorn to the warg. "Umum... mummuma."  
  
"Pippin, I'm sorry, you can't go to the warg now." Aragorn was in no doubt about what he wanted. "You have to lie still and you have to drink this tea."  
  
"Mummummm." Pippin's incoherent mumbling had at least replaced the heart-rending keening sound. But it was still pitiful and sad, making Frodo cry now as well as Merry.  
  
Sam returned with the spoon and it took four of them, Boromir holding his head, Legolas his arms and Sam his mouth and Aragorn the spoon, to ladle half a cupful of the tea down Pippin's throat.  
  
When they were done Aragorn bound up the wound as gently as he could, whilst still keeping the binding tight and secure and laid Pippin back down.  
  
Still he whimpered, "Ummummmm mmummmermmer," the whole time his frantic eyes moving from Aragorn to the warg.  
  
"All right," Aragorn finally gave way. The wound was covered now and although the warg was flea ridden, so too was Pippin. That treatment was still to come. "Let the warg come to him."  
  
Frodo let go of the leash and Icefang crept forward on her belly, sniffing tentatively at Pippin. She could sense that he was badly hurt again and very gently, without disturbing him too much, she curled around his body. Pippin murmured softly burying his face into her coat and at last they both stopped whining. He continued to shake for a little while and Icefang looked up at Aragorn and whimpered slightly.  
  
"I'm sorry my lady," he said to the warg. "I've done all I can, it's up to you now."  
  
But gradually the shaking subsided and Pippin finally fell asleep, his breathing deepening and slowing in time with what he thought was his only friend.  
  
*** 


	13. Reduced

Moria's Revenge, chapter 13: Reduced  
  
Author: Kookaburra  
  
Co-Author: Llinos the Magnificent, the Awe-inspiring, Queen of Hobbitry, Also Co-author of Chapter 12, which I so horribly forgot to mention. 50 lashes to me! My only excuse is that I was so anxious to get her wonderful writing up, that it slipped my mind in my haste. ;)  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  
ONCE AGAIN, DO NOT TRY ANY OF THESE REMEDIES AT HOME.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn decided to take advantage of the fact that Pippin was asleep and start on the burns he had noted earlier. Taking a small vial of lavender oil out of his pack, he gently rolled Pippin onto his side, so that his body was supported by Icicle's.  
  
"Sam," he called softly in the direction of the fire, "didn't you say you had some goatweed?"  
  
"Aye Mr. Strider. Do you want me to do summat with it?"  
  
"Yes, Crush the leaves into a bit of hot spring water. When the liquid turns oily, strain out the leaves and bring the oil here." As Sam went to do his chore, Aragorn turned his attention back to Pippin.  
  
The burns were an angry red, with black, charred skin around the edges. They were mostly long and narrow in shape, while some were circular, and about a quarter of a fingers-length across. Aragorn shuddered at the thought of what these must have been caused by. //Most likely a long bar of metal, the long burns when he was beaten by it, and the circles when they stabbed him with it. Oh, my poor little Pippin...//  
  
Aragorn then carefully placed several drops of soothing oil on each burn, the pleasant aroma permeating the air. //After all his wounds are attended to, I will give him a massage with this to help calm and comfort him.//  
  
The Fellowship had sacrificed several articles of clothing for bandages, and Frodo had not even had to think twice about donating one of his finer shirts for a poultice. Aragorn laid these out, tore them into the appropriate sizes and shapes, and spread the remainder of the onion and garlic paste on them.  
  
"Mr. Strider? The oil is ready." Sam held up a pan full of a dark red broth.  
  
"Thank you Sam." Said Aragorn, gently taking the pot from Sam. He carefully poured the thick liquid over the poultices, where the garlic quickly soaked it up.  
  
"Gimli?" Aragorn called to the dwarf "Could you take Icicle and feed her well."  
  
"What should I give her? Something special?" Gimli asked. So far they had fed Icicle with scraps from their own plates.  
  
"Give her the best we can spare," Aragorn patted the warg's snowy head. "The milk she is giving Pippin is vital for him at the moment and the better fed she is, the better it will be. Make sure she drinks plenty too."  
  
"I'll be certain she fares as well as any of us." Gimli took the leash and coaxed the animal to follow him. Pippin was sleeping now so she reluctantly went with the dwarf.  
  
"Boromir, Legolas, Sam." Aragorn called. "I will need your strength now." When they were all present, Aragorn instructed Boromir to lift Pippin, making sure that access to all of the wounds was available.  
  
As Aragorn placed the poultice patches over each bruise, cut, and whiplash, Sam and Legolas wrapped a bandage around it to secure the dressing. Soon Pippin's entire torso was wrapped up.  
  
"Now I am afraid I must really hurt him." Aragorn lamented. "It is time to reduce his joints. Aragorn looked over at Merry, who was sitting on a rock nearby, a vantage point from which he could carefully observe all they were doing. "Merry, I want you and Frodo to take Icicle for a walk now."  
  
"No!" I can't leave Pippin!" Merry exclaimed in dismay. "If Sam is to stay, so must I!"  
  
"Sam is the only one who knows about herbs, and he has undoubtedly assisted in relocating joints before." Aragorn raised an eyebrow. Sam blushed and nodded sheepishly.  
  
"But Aragorn," Merry protested. "Pip needs me, especially now. I've always looked after him, please don't send me away."  
  
"Merry," Aragorn moved over to the rock where Merry sat as Pippin was laid gently back down from the others' arms. "He is still in shock. I am certain he does not know where he is or who is here. He does not even know what is being said to him."  
  
"That's why I have to make him understand." Merry persisted.  
  
"No Merry," Aragorn explained patiently. "You stayed before when he was being hurt and I don't think that was a good idea. At the moment the only one he relates to is the warg and I think that is because the only time he is not being hurt in any way is when he is with her. She comforts him and feeds him, but she has no hands to touch him or threaten him in any way."  
  
"But I won't hurt him." Merry pleaded.  
  
"He does not know that." Aragorn knew he had to win this argument. "All Pippin knows is that he is being hurt and then he sees your face and will associate you with the hurt. Do you see now why I don't want you here?"  
  
"Come on Merry." Frodo took his cousin by the arm. "Aragorn is making sense, you can help Pippin far more later on if you are not involved with any of these painful processes." Merry looked pleadingly at Frodo. "You will be helping by taking Icicle out of the way. Aragorn cannot work on Pippin while she is here."  
  
Merry sighed and realised at last that the others were right. He slid down from the rock, kissed the sleeping hobbit and took Frodo's arm to go and find if Icicle had finished her dinner yet.  
  
Aragorn turned to the others. "Boromir, you Sam and Legolas had better stay here to help me with Pippin. Gimli, I think it would be well if you went with the other two."  
  
Gimli, who had returned from feeding Icicle, looked a little puzzled. "But surely..." he began.  
  
"I am not trying to get you out of the way." Aragorn smiled. "We do not want Frodo or Merry to meet Pippin's fate. I am not sure how safe this location is and I think they need more of a guard than the orc's warg."  
  
Gimli saw the logic in this and, collecting his axe, walked off to join the two halflings.  
  
"Now," Aragorn bent down to Pippin. "I fear the first thing I must do is to wake the little one."  
  
Boromir nodded in agreement. "Yes the pain will wake him in any case and that sudden shock could kill him."  
  
"Pippin! Wake up!" Aragorn patted his cheeks gently. "Come on little one, open your eyes for me." He patted a little more firmly now until Pippin groaned and blearily came to.  
  
"Pippin? Can you hear me?" Aragorn tried to get the hobbit to focus on him, but he still seemed disoriented and far away. "Who am I? Do you know?"  
  
Pippin dreaded waking, he wanted to stay asleep if at all possible. Waking meant pain, usually new pain. Sleeping meant nightmares and terrifying dreams, but at least the pain stopped for a while and the uncertainty. That was the worst part of the pain, not knowing which torture would be next. One single hurt the body could get used to in time, Pippin decided, but the orcs knew how to vary it so that his poor abused frame never knew what the next agony would be.  
  
But he was awake now. he had better pay attention. If he got it right sometimes they hurt him less, or they let him go to the other one, umummmum, what they called her he wasn't sure, but she gave him milk and kept him safe.  
  
"Pippin can you hear me?" Aragorn attempted once more. "Who am I? What's my name?"  
  
Oh no it was a question. 'Who am I?' What's my name?' He knew this, had done this before. Been beaten for getting it wrong. "Master. Is Master." Pippin whispered, hoping he got it right.  
  
"No Pippin," Aragorn stroked his face patiently. "It is Strider. Remember? Sometimes you call me Aragorn. Try to remember."  
  
Pippin's eyes retreated again; he cringed in fear, still in shock, still not understanding fully. Expecting to be hurt at any moment.  
  
Aragorn sighed as he prepared for the relocation. He placed the cloth in Pippin's mouth to save him biting down on his tongue. Then, starting with his right arm, he carefully bent the elbow at a right angle. Pippin whimpered a little at the movement. Using the bent arm as a lever, Aragorn popped the joint into place. Pippin screamed through the material.  
  
Sam was immediately by his head, stroking his hair and whispering reassuring words. Pippin looked frantically around for umummmum. His shoulder felt as if his arm had just been ripped off, and everybody was around him and looking at him, and where was umummmum...? He started to cry again, with choking little gasps. Pippin looked blearily at Sam. //Sam, no, make the pain stop please, I know you hate me, but make it stop...//  
  
Pippin came to the realization that the Fellowship had to use him for the only thing he deserved. That was why they were devising new and terrible ways to hurt him every time he awoke. But even if they hated him after all of the bad things he had done, he still loved them. Pippin decided that no matter how much it hurt, since they would enjoy it, he would not try to interfere, so that he might at least be of use to them, and possibly be allowed to stay for a while.  
  
Sam was relieved when Mr. Pippin stopped gasping and shaking, but when he looked into his eyes, he got even more worried. Pippin's eyes were blank. Dead. No flicker of emotion, not even fear or pain stirred in their depths. //He's given up. No! Pippin!// Sam willed the eyes to do something, but nothing happened.  
  
Aragorn had moved to the other arm and prepared to reduce it. He looked over at Pippin.  
  
"Now, Pip, this will hurt very much, but you have to be brave." Aragorn hoped that Pippin could hear and understand him. With a strong push he relocated the bone.  
  
Nothing happened. Pippin's eyes did not even flicker, although he seemed to have bitten hard on the cloth. Aragorn was so worried at this that he reached up to feel the little one's pulse. It was still there, a little weaker than normal, but regular. Why had Pippin not cried out? He was certainly conscious. Aragorn crossed Pippin's arms over his narrow chest and immobilized them with a sling.  
  
"Little one? Can you hear me?" Aragorn stroked Pippin's cheek with the back of his finger. He was growing more and more concerned that he was dealing with Pippin's physical hurts but not making any headway with his psychological needs. The injured hobbit barely spoke and did not seem to recognise anyone or anything they said to him.  
  
Pippin knew for sure now that the dark one, the one that hurt him the most was Master. At first in his stupid pain-filled brain he had thought it was Strider, but that must have been an hallucination brought on by mushroom. It was Master; he would stroke his face and talk to him, in between hurting and abusing him or giving him to others to do the same.  
  
"Boromir talk to Pippin and see if you can get him to react to you." Aragorn thought perhaps Pippin might recognise the Gondorian who had befriended him and cared for him and Merry during their journey so far. "He doesn't seem to know who I am."  
  
Boromir leaned over Pippin and cupped his head in his great hands, tilting his head slightly forward to direct his vacant gaze towards his own eyes. "Little one, Pip, do you remember me? Your friend, Boromir." Pippin stared back, his eyes growing slightly wider. "Can you say, Boromir?"  
  
Pippin remembered Boromir, it was a perfectly clear image. He was in the orc hall sitting on the floor. Boromir had a large whip in his hand and had beaten Pippin until he lost his senses. Dimly Pippin wondered why Boromir and Legolas and Strider had been there, perhaps the orcs were showing them the way to treat him. But the memory could not be denied. He had to say 'Boromir' now that was what he wanted. Pippin knew very well what happened if he didn't do as he was told. He couldn't see the whip, but he had no doubt it was there.  
  
"Boromir." He whispered, scarcely able to form the word, partly from pain and exhaustion but mainly from fear.  
  
"That's good, little one." Boromir leaned down and kissed him lightly on his brow.  
  
Pippin shuddered at the contact. He was sure something terrible would follow. Had not Boromir abused him before as he lay here? He remembered him holding him down and then it had gone black. Maybe he was about to do it again. In panic, his eyes grown wide with terror, Pippin said his name again, "Boromir! Boromir! Please Boromir!" It was all he could think of to try and appease the man.  
  
Aragorn frowned, although Pippin was repeating the words he was told, it did not seem to be calming him. It would be well to try and coax him to initiate something himself. "Pippin? It's all right now. No one is trying to hurt you. The hurts were made by the orcs, we are trying to make you better."  
  
Of course! That was what Merry had told him. Pippin realised now, the Fellowship had to hurt and abuse him to make him better - to punish him for the bad things he had done.  
  
"Pippin, tell me what you want." Aragorn tried. "Is there something you would like to have?" It was the only strategy Aragorn could think of right now to get Pippin to initiate a communication. He did not seem to know what the ranger wanted though and rolled his head from side to side, looking fearfully from Boromir to him.  
  
Just then the three walkers arrived back with the warg in tow. Aragorn wondered how Pippin might react to a choice. "Frodo could you fetch a cup of water for me? Gimli bring Icicle over here please."  
  
Once done Frodo stood to one side of Pippin with the water held just away from his lips and Gimli the other side with Icicle clearly in view. "Pippin, which do you want?" Aragorn gently held his head and turned him first towards the water. "Do you want a drink of water?" He turned him now towards the warg. "Or do you want to go to Icicle?"  
  
Was this some kind of game they had devised, Pippin wondered, trying to trap him into yet another bizarre torture? He could not work it out any longer. He just knew that he wanted Umummmum more than anything.  
  
He turned his head towards the warg and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master, Umummmum?"  
  
As the warg curled around her pup and encouraged him to suckle, Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at what seemed to be his first victory. It wasn't much but at last he had something to bargain with.  
  
****  
  
Special Thanks:  
  
Llinos: The bestest Co-author/beta a girl ever had. With out her this story would not be half of what it is.  
  
Niere and Mainframe: For thier medical expertise, which has contributed to the timleyness of the chapters, as it means that I do not have to do research on my own. 


	14. Named

Moria's Revenge chapter 14: Named  
  
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos  
  
Disclaimer: I wish.  
  
IF YOU TRY AND TREAT YOURSELF WITH REMEDIES FROM MY STORY, YOU ARE AN IDIOT.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn was feeling very weary, but there was still a vital treatment that had to be performed on Pippin for his physical well being. The ranger felt so drained that while Pippin was resting and being nursed by Icicle he took a brief sleep himself with instructions to Sam to wake him as soon as Pippin stirred again.  
  
He slept in all for about three hours and Sam having noticed Pippin become restless again woke the ranger with a strong mug of tea and a dish of stew with herb dumplings. The food and rest revived Aragorn considerably and he returned to see how his little patient was faring.  
  
Icicle was inclined to lick Pippin and whilst this might be comforting for him it was not especially good from the point of view of cleanliness, although most of Pip's body was now covered with bandages so she tended to lick his face and his feet, which were at least easy to wash.  
  
Gimli and Merry came to take charge of Icicle again and the warg was becoming accustomed to going with the dwarf now. He was feeding her well and both he and the other hobbits treated her kindly, talking to her and playing with her. She was getting a share of herbs as well, namely anise, which Aragorn said would help increase her milk production. Also she knew they would take care of her pup now and let her go back to him when her milk was needed.  
  
Aragorn decided to ask Frodo to help with the next treatment. Pippin seemed less threatened by the gentle mannered hobbit than the others and he did not tremble and look so terrified at Frodo's approach for some reason.  
  
After draping a blanket over Pippin's lower half to give some semblance of privacy, Aragorn gently spread Pippin's legs and lifted his knees. Frodo was holding his cousin's head, trying to distract him from what was to follow.  
  
****{flashback}  
  
"Oh, I know how ter make 'em dance! Give it 'ere. Lugsta, stop puttin' tha' hotroot on yer grub an' give some 'ere!" The orc holding Pippin handed him to Lugsta. Pippin was hiccuping little sobs, his throat too tight with fear to make a louder sound. //no, not to him, don't touch me don't hurt me again// Pippin remembered all to well that Crugsyl had been the first to abuse him the night before. The orca that had Pippin gave a nasty smile, and put Pippin on the table, holding him down on his back. //nononodon'ttouchmeletmegodon'thurtmeMERRYPLEASEhelpmeanyone...// Pippin could just raise his head enough to look down the table at what Crugsyl was doing. Crugsyl had some sort of red paste on his fingers. At a nod from him, one of the orcs took Pippin's knees, spread them and lifted them up  
  
****  
  
. Umummmum was gone! Now the Master had come back and he was going to rape him again! No please, it hurts there too much. But he knew he must not fight, if the Master wanted to do that then he must endure it, that was all he was fit for, he knew that now.  
  
With the dried blood washed off, it was now easier for Aragorn to make a visual assessment. The bruising on Pippin's backside was so extensive that there was more purple flesh than white. The lesions on his penis were greater in number, which spoke of spreading disease. //I'll have to ask Sam if he got any snake butter mushrooms.// Pippin's anus was still leaking blood, and the opening was severely abraded. //Thank the Valar the artery was not ruptured.//  
  
Frodo could not see the damage from where he held Pippin's head, but he could see Aragorn's face. "Is he bad?" He whispered trying not to disturb Pippin too much.  
  
//Of course I'm bad.// Pippin thought. Even Frodo knew that now, knew what he had done. Was the Master showing Frodo? Teaching him about how you treat bad hobbits like him - what you have to do to them?  
  
Aragorn just nodded sadly, he did not want to verbalise the extent of the damage so that Pippin could hear, but he knew he would have to explain it to Frodo and the others if only to help them understand poor little Pippin's fears.  
  
Now for the hard part. In order to reduce the risk of infection, Pippin would have to be cleaned out, and with his current mental state, Aragorn was afraid of damaging him further.  
  
After cleaning his hands thoroughly with soapwort and lye, Aragorn prepared for the tactile examination. He spread some marigold oil on his fingers and gently placed them at the opening.  
  
***{flashback, cont.}  
  
Pippin whimpered again.  
  
"Har! Yeh'll be makin' purtyer noises 'n that soon, little whore! Now, dance!" With this he pushed his fingers into Pippin's abused opening.  
  
****  
  
At Aragorn's touch, Pippin's whole body stiffened. A small whimper came from his lips. Aragorn placed a hand on one of Pippin's knees and rubbed it reassuringly. He pushed one finger in the tiniest bit. Pippin went limp, but his eyes widened in terror. Aragorn could already feel grit and foreign matter left from when the orcs abused him, and he was barely a quarter of a finger-length in. Deciding that further investigation would only damage the abused tissues more than it would help, Aragorn withdrew, and wiped his hand on a rag, considering his next course of action. The marigold oil would help with those odd burns, and the scrapes. He would also make a compress of calendula and comfrey, as that would be a great comfort to the used area.  
  
He rose, and returned Pippin's legs to their original position. He walked over to where Legolas was helping Sam prepare the medicines. The hobbit looked up as Aragorn approached.  
  
"How bad is it, Mr. Strider?" Sam asked quietly.  
  
"I will not lie to you, Sam. Pippin is not out of danger yet. If any great strain is placed on the area, it could rupture, and there would be nothing I could do to stop the bleeding."  
  
Sam looked at the ground. He sniffled and wiped at his eye. "I-I'm sorry," he said, apologizing for his emotion, "it's just that the thought of the horrible things that happened to poor Mr. Pippin..." He voice broke. Legolas put a tender arm around the sobbing halfling and drew him close.  
  
"Shh, Sam. It is good to let your sorrow out." As the elf comforted Sam, Aragorn readied the herbs.  
  
Aragorn started the treatment by cleaning around the anal area, bathing the bruises with arnica and spotted alder bark tea. When he had the compress ready, Aragorn spread Pip's legs again and placed it between them, and then added a soft padding of gauze. Closing his legs and stretching them out, Aragorn drew forth some more bandages, and began to wrap them around Pippin's hips. He wrapped all the way to the middle of Pip's thighs, to keep his legs closed and the compress in place.  
  
Pippin lay surprisingly still while this was being done to him. Aragorn would almost have felt better if the little one had at least cried out or protested in some way. It was as if he had grown so accustomed to being manhandled he no longer fought it.  
  
Master was abusing him, touching him, hurting him, binding him tightly, and, as he thought he would, showing the others. //Must lie still! Must lie still!// Pippin's body screamed to fight and protest, but he knew that would be wrong. No matter how much it hurt he had to suffer this, it was what he deserved. Perhaps if he were good they would not beat him afterwards.  
  
Once it was finished they lifted Pippin a little and fed him some more sweetweed tea from a spoon. Then Aragorn gave him a little amantilla again, feeding it to him from his finger. This time Pippin obediently sucked the paste off without a fight. Somehow this did not please the ranger, it seemed as if Pippin had not relaxed with them, but that his spirit was totally broken beyond repair.  
  
Gimli came over with Icicle and Pippin struggled a little at the sight of the warg. But Aragorn was not going to give up his one bargaining strength without making at least a tiny step towards trying to heal Pippin's mind as well.  
  
Gimli stroked the warg and persuaded her to lie down and wait. She put her head patiently between her paws and watched her pup carefully with her bright, intelligent eyes.  
  
Aragorn lifted Pippin up a little more so that he could clearly see Icicle and the others. Pippin gave the ranger a nervous glance and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master?" cringing his head down as soon as the words left his lips.  
  
But Aragorn wanted a little more this time.  
  
"Look at me little one!" Aragorn put his finger under the slumped chin and lifted Pippin's face up to make his eyes meet his. "Just say your name for me. Come on try. Do you want to go to the umum again? You can if you say your name."  
  
Pippin shuddered and dropped his head down until he caught Aragorn's finger in his mouth and began to suck on it.  
  
"No, not that." Aragorn gently took his finger back and tentatively put an arm around the little one's shoulder, drawing him in closer. Aragorn's heart dropped as he felt the sudden panic of tension run through Pippin's frame at the physical contact. This time he persisted, holding the tiny body as gently as he could and drawing the hobbit into his arms. "Come on tell me your name, it's not difficult, you can do it."  
  
Pippin's mind raced in panic, what was he supposed to do? This was Master and he was holding him, touching him. If he didn't get it right he knew what would follow. He would be beaten and hurt and hurt until he couldn't scream anymore. What must he do?  
  
"Just say your name for me." Aragorn stroked his face, running the back of his fingers down Pippin's cheek. "You remember, what's your name?"  
  
Name? Master had given him a name. "Dogwhore," Pippin whispered, his eyes on Master's hand, waiting for the caress to turn into a blow, he cringed slightly in readiness. "It's Dogwhore".  
  
The hand stopped stroking, but it did not pull back to clout him. Aragorn choked a gasp from his throat and felt a tight pain grip his heart. "No no! Pippin!" He clutched the tiny figure to his breast almost squeezing the breath out of him. He rocked him to and fro kissing the curly head as he whispered over and over. "You're Pippin, you're Pippin, you're our Pip. Never forget that, Pip! Now you say it. 'I'm Pippin!'."  
  
Sam and Frodo looked at each other aghast. What degradation had been heaped on poor little Pippin, the baby and darling of their hearts. It couldn't be! Frodo wanted to rush forward and comfort Pippin, to hold him tight and never let anyone else touch him again. He felt the tears sting down his cheeks in frustration at his inability to make his little cousin better.  
  
Sam felt anger surge through his whole being, he felt for the little sword that he wore at his side, feeling as if he should draw it now and stand guard over little Pippin for ever more, so that nothing or no one should so much as say a harsh word to him ever again.  
  
Gimli felt his hand curl about his axe, he growled slightly under his breath making Icefang look up at him in surprise. The dwarf's indignant rage at the innocent little hobbit's words made him want to pound off now and rip open the doors of Moria and cleave every damned, filthy orc he could lay his axe to.  
  
Legolas was across the clearing, watching over Merry while the perian was sleeping, snuggled up to Boromir who was also taking a deserved rest, but his sharp elf ears caught the words. //Oh, poor little Pippin,// his heart grieved at the thought of what the orcs must have put him through to make Pip believe such a thing, //the damage to his mind is more severe than I ever imagined.// Legolas looked down at Merry and Boromir, tears blurring his vision. He was grateful that those two were not around to hear Pippin's heartbreaking little voice calling himself that.  
  
Pippin quivered in Aragorn's embrace. He did not understand why master had not hit him. He seemed upset with him though. It made him want to cry too. He had to say something? His name, it was, Dog... no, master had been cross at that. Pippin tried again. "p-p..." He broke off with a little sob.  
  
"Come on try again." Aragorn lifted the little face up to look at him again. "Say Pip, for me, say after me, 'I'm Pip'."  
  
"P-p-pip. I Pip." Pippin's eyes were still filled with fear as he looked up at Master. But he had liked the sound of this name, it was better than the other one. Master had promised him something if he did as he was told, he remembered. "umummmum?"  
  
"All right, little Pippin." Aragorn reluctantly capitulated; it had been a minor victory, but so heart-rending, he could not demand more today. He carried Pippin over to the waiting warg and allowed him to snuggle up against her welcoming body.  
  
**** Author's notes:  
  
Llinos: A haiku  
  
The best co-author  
  
She helps me so much with this  
  
I cannot repay  
  
*bows* *** 


	15. Explained

Moria's Revenge Chapter 15: Explained  
  
Author: it's all Llinos!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the great [WARNING: weird metaphor alert] metropolis that is Lord of the Rings. I am a street urchin playing in its gutters.  
  
My herbs may be accurate, but they should never be used without professional supervision.  
  
Danger! Danger! Llinos Angst ahead - proceed with Caution!  
  
Frodo watched Pippin sadly for a while as the exhausted hobbit snuggled up against his motherly warg. He wished that his little cousin would allow himself to be comforted by him or Sam or Merry, but whenever they touched or spoke to him he was afraid and wide-eyed with terror. Either that or he seemed to retreat into himself as if he were merely suffering their touches and soft words. Only when he was allowed to be with Icicle would he close his eyes and sleep in peace.  
  
Frodo decided then he would not be put off any more. He had asked Aragorn many times why Pippin was so afraid and was dissatisfied with answers such as, 'he doesn't know where he is, or who you are', it made no sense. He understood that Pippin had been badly hurt as the evidence was before him. The terrible wound in his belly, the dislocated arms, the multiple abrasions and cuts and bruises, to say nothing of whatever it was Aragorn had found just now when he examined between Pip's legs.  
  
But why did the ranger not trust Frodo or Merry to help Pippin? He seemed to put more faith in Sam, although even he did not seem too sure exactly what was wrong with Pip's state of mind. All of the other members of the Fellowship seemed to know exactly what was wrong and trying their best to keep it from the hobbits.  
  
Boromir and Merry had woken about a half an hour ago, although Merry did not look very rested and Frodo suspected he had not slept too well.  
  
Frodo looked up at the setting sun. Although he was getting very tired, he resolved to not go to sleep until his questions were answered. He decided to enlist Sam and Merry's help to make Aragorn tell them the whole truth about Pippin and walked over to where the two sat at the campfire. Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir were talking about something a little way off, and Gimli was taking a nap.  
  
"Merry, Sam" Frodo squatted on his haunches to talk quietly to his friends, "Do you think the others are keeping something from us about Pip?"  
  
"What?" A note of panic sounded in Merry's voice. "Has something happened?" Merry was on his feet and about to head over to his little cousin but Frodo caught his coat and pulled him back down.  
  
"No, not something new. It's just that I think they," Frodo waved towards the huddle of big people, "know things they aren't telling us. I don't know about you, but I want the truth about what happened to Pippin. Why he's so scared of us, and why he thinks his name is..." Frodo stopped suddenly, and he realised that Merry had not heard what Pip had called himself. Merry looked up sharply.  
  
"What, Frodo, what does he think his name is?" Merry asked softly, standing up as he did so. Sam buried his head in his hands. Frodo bit his lip. Now he had said too much, if he lied, he would be as guilty as Aragorn for withholding information. But Merry would find out somehow, and Frodo knew what would happen if Merry learned that he too had been keeping things from him.  
  
Frodo stood up next to Merry and placed his hands on his cousin's shoulders and looked into his eyes, "Merry it was quite horrible, poor Pippin did not know what he was saying, I'm sure of it."  
  
"Just tell me." Merry looked squarely back at Frodo letting him know he would not be placated. "You were complaining about having things kept from us. Tell me."  
  
Sam suddenly rose to his feet and caught Merry's arm, turning the hobbit around to face him instead of Frodo. "Mr Pippin said his name was 'Dogwhore'!" Sam knew it was presumptuous of him to behave this way, but he could not bear the tortured tone in Mr Frodo's voice or the agonised look on his face. He also knew that this would be a very hard thing for Mr Merry to hear and decided it would be better not to be told such a thing by his beloved cousin.  
  
"Oh Sam!" Frodo understood completely why he had interrupted. He laid a hand on each of the other two hobbit's shoulders. Merry looked devastated, his mouth dropped open but he was lost for words.  
  
"I'm so s-sorry Mr Merry," Sam stuttered, partly from nerves but also emotion at the awful silence that had fallen on Merry. "I didn't mean to blurt it out like that and all. I'm sure Mr Pippin was. was. " Sam broke off. He realised he was out of his depth now and hoped Frodo would have better words to explain it to Merry.  
  
"Aragorn got him to say his proper name, Merry" Frodo could see Merry's hurt and confusion as if the whole of Pippin's ordeal had just been laid before him with that one word, as if he suddenly saw where Pippin had been and what had been done to him. "Aragorn made him call himself Pip."  
  
"He did what?" Merry finally unfroze, his speechlessness being replaced by anger. "Why did he do that? How would that help? Pip needs to know who he is - not be told! He needs to remember who he is and I'm the one who can do that!"  
  
"We'll all go and talk to Aragorn." Frodo tried to placate his cousin a little. "We'll explain that we need to know more and that Pip needs our help too."  
  
***  
  
"Aragorn, please." Frodo stood with the other two hobbits in a row before the ranger. Boromir and Legolas turned to look at the little deputation sensing with sinking hearts what was to come. "We'd like to talk to you if you're not too tired."  
  
"Of course." Aragorn could hardly deny them. "In private or. " he indicated the others with his arm.  
  
"No, that's partly what we want to talk about," Frodo said glancing either side at the other two hobbits, "all of us."  
  
"Then let us sit by the fire, where we'll be warmer and can keep an eye on Pippin." Aragorn turned to Legolas. "Why don't you waken Gimli to join us as well?"  
  
Once the seven members of the Fellowship were gathered around the small campfire Frodo began. "We three," he paused and looked at Sam and Merry, "we're worried that you are keeping too much from us about Pippin. We see you looking at each other and talking quietly amongst yourselves and we want to know just how badly Pip is hurt, after all," Frodo tried not to sound petulant, although he worried it was might seem to the big folk that way, "he is our kinsman, mine and Merry's and could we not help him more to know who he is and where he is?"  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath and looked at the three expectant faces before him. Sam seemed to be a little nervous at the confrontation, but the ranger could tell Merry was boiling just below the surface and almost at breaking point. "How many victims of rape have you three ever encountered before?" He said it as gently as he could, for he did not need an answer, he already knew.  
  
"I once heard of my second cousin's aunt on my mother's side out in Long Cleeve." Sam started but broke off as he suddenly realised the irrelevance of the story.  
  
"Pippin has been through a terrible ordeal," Aragorn continued. "At the moment all I can deal with in any constructive way are his physical injuries, so let's start by telling you all there is to know about those."  
  
The hobbits nodded to each other and Aragorn, this seemed a good place to start. Aragorn continued. "This is the order in which I believe, and I could be quite wrong, the order in which they happened. This is quite important to consider for then you know how long each injury went untreated. Although bear in mind these are only estimates.  
  
"First, I would imagine that Pippin was knocked about and then beaten with a whip across his back. The bleeding there indicates this occurred early on in his captivity. Then I would guess that he was violently raped for the first time. The bruising on his arms and ankles indicate that he was held down for that purpose and the purple yellow colouring there indicates the age of the attack."  
  
The hobbits shifted uncomfortably at the stark description Aragorn was now giving them of Pippin's ordeal. But it was what they had demanded.  
  
"Shortly after that," Aragorn decided to press on, "I would think the collar was put around his neck and he was dragged around a great deal, probably being made to crawl on his hands and knees, as evidenced by the abrasions and grit in the wounds."  
  
Again the hobbits all stared into the fire not wanting to meet each other's eyes and each feeling that uncomfortable clench in their bellies as they tried to avoid the inevitable pictures the ranger's words were conjuring up.  
  
"Sometime around then, I'm guessing the orcs began to play with him, to torment him. They may have put things inside his back passage and they certainly whipped him again. They may have drugged him too, but I'm not sure.  
  
"Dog's teeth!" Gimli exclaimed in horror. Even the dwarf had not realised the full extent of Pippin's ordeal.  
  
"After this is when I think they burnt him with a hot iron and first put that terrible gag in his mouth. Certainly there would have been more raping and similar abuse. I'm gauging this on what I know of orcs and the likelihood of such things. I am sure the last thing they did, before bringing him outside was to dislocate his arms, which, fortunately was not a very old injury."  
  
Aragorn looked at the three, who were now speechless, although Sam was openly weeping and Merry looked as if he was in shock. Frodo just stared steadfastly into the fire. Boromir, Legolas and Gimli had not fared much better, hearing the whole catalogue of torture vented upon such a small innocent being was a terrible shock even to these seasoned warriors.  
  
"As we know," Aragorn tried to make his voice a little more gentle, "the last thing they did was to cut him across his belly and they would probably have killed him had it not been for Frodo leading us to him in time."  
  
As Aragorn paused in his litany of horror for a moment, Legolas put his arm around Sam's shoulders to try and comfort him a little and Boromir reached out to touch Merry's arm. "Are you all right Merry?" he whispered with concern.  
  
Merry did not verbalise his reply but looked up at Boromir with slightly glazed eyes as if he had not heard him and then nodded slightly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Aragorn took Frodo's small hand in his. "It was not my intention to shock you, but the truth is, I'm afraid, brutal."  
  
Merry seemed to come to a little at this, "It's better we know the truth," he said. "Just because we d-deal with it differently does not mean that you should shield us. F-for us to hear it is-is only a f-fraction of what poor Pip. p-poor P-P . Oh, he must have felt so lonely..." Merry gulped his tears back but could not continue.  
  
"All right," Aragorn saw now that the hobbits would grieve and cry but they needed to suffer along with Pippin in order to maintain their mental health. "In terms of what that means right now, the most threatening injuries are to Pippin's stomach and to his rectum, both of which could still kill him."  
  
Merry looked up sharply, a panicked expression on his face. "But I thought. I thought he. "  
  
"No, Merry," Aragorn sighed, "Pippin is still in mortal danger. There is a major artery that runs along the rectum, and if it is ruptured, Pip will die almost instantly. He has multiple abrasions and had been sorely abused in that area. The danger from the wound in his stomach is self evident and that is not taking into account the shock or possible infection from all his other injuries. Added to which," Aragorn took a deep breath again, "I think he has a sexually transmitted disease which could also kill him."  
  
Merry looked up in confusion. "A what?" Aragorn looked at the other halflings' faces and saw puzzlement there as well. He was going to have to explain this carefully. It was incredibly draining to do this and not let his emotions out, and he did not know how much more he could take. Fortunately Boromir saved him. Aragorn had been discussing the symptoms with Boromir, who, as captain of the guard, had quite a bit of experience with such things. His soldiers of course frequented brothels and, in order to prevent disease from sweeping his troops, had added a special training to the normal fighting instruction, training on how to recognize certain diseases. Aragorn knew of this and had gotten Boromir's opinion on the diagnosis.  
  
"When someone is sick with measles or flu, you do not go near them because you could get sick as well, correct?" At the affirmative nods, Boromir continued. "There are certain illnesses that can only be caught by having sexual relations with someone who has the disease. No doubt the filthy orc den was rife with them, and Pippin is most fortunate he only caught one, and one that is curable. Aragron and I agree on which disease it is."  
  
"And Pip will get better from that?" Merry asked quietly.  
  
"As long as we can get him to take the right medication." Aragorn added. "He should."  
  
"But what about his mental condition?" Frodo asked. "Th-that word he called himself for instance and how he doesn't know who we are."  
  
"Frodo," Aragorn explained patiently, "I was listing the physical things that were done to Pippin to try and give you an idea of the mental torment that must have accompanied them. I cannot even begin to guess at all the humiliation and degradation to which they subjected him, certainly they forced themselves in his mouth and they urinated on him, so his use of this word is, I would think, the tiniest indication of the mental torture and conditioning they inflicted on him."  
  
Merry could hardly bear to hear more but it felt as if he was deserting Pippin if he stopped now. "B-but why is my Pip scared of me? Aragorn I can't bear it, he's frightened of me or doesn't know me and I love him best in the whole world!"  
  
"Merry, it is very typical for a rape victim to not want to be near the person they love the most." Aragorn knew this would be hard to explain. "They feel it is in some way their fault and."  
  
"No!" Merry shouted at Aragorn startling the others by his sudden vehemence, "How can you say that? Why would Pip think he was to blame?" "I'm not saying he was, Merry," Aragorn explained gently. "He may have been made to feel that by the orcs. And because of this, he probably feels that he is not fit to be with you." Legolas took Merry's hand in his, "Of course none of this was his fault and eventually he will know that, but at the moment Aragorn must deal with his physical injuries or he will not survive to reach that realisation."  
  
"B-but is there nothing you can do?" Merry quietened a little once more. "To make him feel better about himself I mean. It must be so cruel for him. Does he know we're here and that we're trying to help?"  
  
"Sadly, every time I treat his injuries, I hurt him more." Aragorn had already agonised over this, "but it is either that or let him die. That is why, as I explained to you before Merry, I do not want you to be near him, he will only associate you with the pain."  
  
"Aragorn is right, Merry." Boromir added his weight to the argument. "I have noticed that he already calls Aragorn 'Master', which is obviously some kind of conditioning that he associates with the pain."  
  
"So how will you ever make him know what's happening and that he's safe?" Frodo could see no end to poor Pippin's torment.  
  
"I will do what I can," Aragorn said softly. "But I must attend to his physical well being first. The mental healing will take a long time, but I think his best chance is with the elves in Lothlórien."  
  
Sam lifted up his tear-stained face at this. "Where's that?" he asked. "Is it another elf house like Rivendell?"  
  
"It is more," Aragorn smiled slightly. "It is the Golden Wood and is ruled over by one of the most powerful, yet gracious of Ladies - Galadriel."  
  
"Surely that wood is bewitched!" Gimli exclaimed in horror, "It is no place to take the poor injured hobbit."  
  
"I am sure her bewitchment will work only for good in Pippin's case." Aragorn assured him.  
  
"And will the elves be able to bring him back to us?" Merry asked hopeful for the first time.  
  
"I don't know for sure Merry." Aragorn admitted, "But I am sure they will bring all their powers to bear - one as pure and innocent as Pippin deserves a better fate than this."  
  
****  
  
TBC  
  
A/N: Thank you to Llinos for that wonderful chapter!  
  
Other stuff: 


	16. Soothed

Moria's Revenge, chapter 16: Soothed  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or make any money from it.  
  
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos  
  
Aragorn looked up at the blood red sky as the sun prepared to slip behind the Misty Mountains. They would have to douse the fire and hide the camp soon. He had wanted to get on with delousing Pippin, but without the fire to keep the wet-haired hobbit warm, he worried about the little one catching cold. It would have to wait until tomorrow.  
  
He stood just outside the circle of firelight, where he could see his comrades but was hidden from them. Aragorn felt a tightness in his stomach that was only partially due to hunger. He was incredibly nervous. With Gandalf gone, he was on his own in leading the group, Pippin was hovering near death, and Lothlórien was still some days away. Aragorn leaned against a tree and covered his eyes with his hands, almost lapsing into the childhood belief that if one could not see one's problems, they were not really there.  
  
"Aragorn?" a soft voice said at his side. Aragorn raised his head and looked into Boromir's kind grey eyes. "Would you mind coming with me to scout the perimeter of the camp?" This was an obvious invitation to talk privately but as warriors and males they would never have dreamed of coming right out and saying it.  
  
"I will come with you," Aragorn answered, "but let me tell the others where we are going." He stepped back into the clearing. "Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and I are going to scout the area. While we are gone, douse the fire and start hiding the camp." The two new friends nodded. Aragorn let out a breath he'd been holding. Since the quest began, those two had been sniping at each other constantly, but he had started noticing a change in the elf and dwarf since they had gone to look for Pippin.  
  
Boromir waited by the tree. His heart felt heavy for Aragorn, who he knew must be blaming himself for what had happened to Pippin. As their leader, he probably thought it was his duty to see to the welfare of everyone personally. Aragorn joined him again, and they started on their task. The two men walked in silence for a while until they came upon a smaller rock formation. This one with several stones in a circle was obviously meant for seating.  
  
"Perhaps we should rest here for a moment." Aragorn suggested. Boromir nodded and they both sat on one of the stone benches. Boromir took a deep breath; he had decided it was time for the healer to be healed.  
  
"Aragorn, you have now told us all of Pippin's condition, but what of yours?" The ranger looked up sharply.  
  
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked.  
  
Boromir looked him in the eye. "The strain of both leading the company and tending to young Pippin's hurts is telling on you Aragorn. Though you may have been brought up and nurtured by elves and be betrothed to an elf, you are not one yourself. You must at least sleep sometime."  
  
"I slept yesterday." Aragorn said defensively.  
  
Boromir snorted. "For all of three hours, and then you had a half a bowl of stew and one dumpling, and that's been all for two days."  
  
"I am afraid I have been... distracted."  
  
"And for your treatments and care of Pippin we are all grateful. But it must be wearying to tend to so many hurts on such a small body." There was a short silence, and then Aragorn leaned forwards and with his elbows on his knees, covered his face with his hands. Wordlessly, Boromir reached out and embraced Aragorn's shoulders.  
  
"He trusted me." Aragorn's voice had a slight hitch in it. "I said I would lead them and he trusted me. I have failed Pippin; I should have been paying more attention to him. I knew the hobbits were weary. I should not have pushed the company so fast." Drawing in a shuddering breath, Aragorn reached into his jerkin and brought something out. It was Pippin's scarf. Aragorn turned it over and over in his hands, looking at it. The soft grey wool, with the brightly coloured fringe on the end, and. the bloodstains that now marred the knit. It was stretched out of shape, and smelled foul.  
  
"You cannot be responsible for every detail. You did an amazing feat, bringing us through the trackless pines and to the rocks. You were coping with Gandalf's..." Here Boromir's voice caught, "Gandalf's death. Though I knew him from when he would journey to Minas Tirith before the quest, I surely have not known him as you have, and his loss grieves me terribly. I cannot imagine what you must feel."  
  
At this, Aragorn raised his head and gazed up at the sky. The last streaks of gold were clutching like greedy fingers at the coming night. Boromir was startled to see tears glistening on Aragorn's face.  
  
"His death hangs heavy on us all." Aragorn finally said. "The grief at his loss is a wound that will never heal. But it is compounded by the dread responsibility I feel for what happened to Pippin. Gandalf would have kept the hobbits closer, he would have known that the little one was lagging behind and what happened would never have come to pass."  
  
"For that I am as guilty as you." Boromir put his hand on his fellow Gondorian's shoulder. "I should have assumed your place at the rear of the company. You could not lead and shepherd Aragorn, Pippin's capture was more my fault than yours."  
  
Aragorn looked at Boromir in surprise. It had not occurred to him before than any of the others were to blame for what had happened. "Nevertheless, I should have asked you to do that, I did not. I was too concerned with what was ahead to think of what was behind and for that Pippin suffered this terrible ordeal."  
  
"Aragorn, we all know you would do anything to have him spared what happened, what he is now going through," Boromir looked earnestly into the ranger's grey eyes. "Even to bear the pain yourself, but it is not to be. Your guilt and remorse will not help Pippin now."  
  
At that thought Aragorn spread his hands out before him, the palms held up. "These hands," he sighed. "I fear the skill in them is not enough. The others, especially the little ones, expect me to save Pippin, more than that, they trust me to heal him, but I do not know if it is truly in my power."  
  
"They trust you to do your utmost." Boromir closed Aragorn's hands together between his own. "No more could anyone ask and no more can you do. Except maybe to trust in yourself a little more."  
  
Aragorn's look of despair lifted a little as a small ray of hope crossed his face, "I will. You are right Boromir, it does not help the perian for me to believe the worst. Pippin not only needs healing hands he needs a healing mind to help him out of his black nightmare."  
  
Looking back down at the scarf, Aragorn said, "I wonder if this will ever be as it was."  
  
"It may have to be reknit, and cleaned, but yes, it can be as it was again." Boromir replied, taking the other end of the scarf in his hands.  
  
"I do not know how to knit."  
  
"Perhaps that will be a task for someone else. We can just keep it safe. You have done so much already for him Aragorn." Boromir stood and offered his hand to the Ranger. "Do not throw away the progress the little one has made by giving up now."  
  
Aragorn folded Pippin's scarf and put it back inside his jerkin and taking the offered hand, joined Boromir on his feet. "I must not and will not betray the trust Gandalf put in me to lead and care for the Fellowship." The two Gondorians resumed their patrol. "He told me that hobbits are remarkable creatures and I am beginning to see that more and more. Pippin will recover and be made whole in mind and body. That belief is as important as the actions I now take."  
  
****  
  
Lugsta paced along the passageway to the chief's quarters with trepidation. he had been trying to think of what to tell the chief of His and Crugsyl's "mission". When he got to the florin spiked door, Skor swung it open without a word, though no doubt he noticed that only one of the pair had returned.  
  
"Tha' took yer long enou'! Where's my warg? An' where's Crugsyl? Did yer finish it?"  
  
Lugsta started to get nervous. His life hung on his ability to lie convincingly and well.  
  
"I did, chief, but Crugsyl got hisself an' yer warg killed by the whiteskins..."  
  
"WHAT?!" roared the chief. Lugsta backed up against the wall.  
  
"It was like this, see, Crugsyl took yer warg with him to go and bring the whiteskins ter the bloodstone, and just when I was finishin' wi' the little rats tripes, 'e comes bustin' in ter th' clearing, see. An' then that elf they've got shot 'im wi' an arrow! Yer warg weren't wi' 'im, so's I figgered tha' 'e 'ad let 'er go an' gone an' been followed closer than 'e wanted by the buggers. So I left. But the Dogwhore's dead fer sure, chief." Lugsta finished lamely. Inwardly he cringed, just waiting for the chief to pick out the falsehood.  
  
Then the chief did something completely unexpected. He threw back his hideous head and laughed. It was a terrible grating sound, but Lugsta chuckled along with him. When the chief stopped, he said to Lugsta, "Yeh've done well. Now Tha' troublemaker Crugsie's outtn ther way. Icefang pro'ly ran away from 'im, an' she'll come back. She alus does." The chief clapped Lugsta on the back with jarring force and laughed again. Lugsta did the same while inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. The chief had bought it. Now if he could just escape to the mess hall and pinch a cask of ale, he could forget about this whole ordeal and drink himself into a stupor in his quarters.  
  
***  
  
When the two returned to the clearing they could see the others had been busy. The campfire was now covered over by earth and the area was tidy and clear, the only visible signs by the rising moon that they were still there were seven neat bedrolls, each with a tidy pack laid on top and a little heap that was Pippin wrapped up in blankets with Icicle curled tightly around him.  
  
None of the bedrolls was occupied yet. Gimli and Legolas were standing guard at the edge of the clearing, Merry and Frodo were sitting quietly near the sleeping Pippin and Sam was the other side sitting by Icicle and gently stroking her head.  
  
Aragorn immediately went over to the hobbits and, petting Icicle gently first, brushed Pippin's hair back with his hand to feel his forehead. His temperature was somewhat high and he stirred at the touch, moaning and trying to move a little, but constricted by the bandages.  
  
"I think I must unwrap him for a while," Aragorn explained to the others, the new approach of keeping them informed foremost in his mind. "Although the bandages will prevent further damage, they will have become soiled and he will benefit from a change of position."  
  
"Can we help Aragorn?" Merry was the first to ask. "If you think it won't distress Pip too much."  
  
"We'll see how he reacts." Aragorn promised. "Gimli could you take Icicle and Boromir if you and Legolas would lift him up I can remove the bandages more easily." The hobbits drew back to let the others reach Pippin.  
  
"Sam could you find me some fresh material to replace this?" Aragorn remember he must not exclude the halflings. "Merry, Frodo, some clean water from the spring will be needed to wash Pippin with and some soapwort and lye as well." The hobbits hurried off to their allotted tasks, glad to each have something useful to do.  
  
Legolas stroked the drowsy hobbit's head to be sure he was more aware of them. "Pippin, Pip," he whispered gently. "We're going to lift you up, but don't be afraid, Aragorn has to unbind you."  
  
Pippin's eyes opened and he saw the others crowded round him and Umummmum was gone. Legolas was saying something. They were going to unbind him. Why? What were they going to do to him? Please, not that, not that, let it be the whip. The whip only hurt it did not make him feel so dirty, so degraded, so worthless.  
  
Aragorn saw the panic and fear in Pippin's face and changed his mind. "Don't lift him right up, he's too agitated." Then he knelt beside Pippin and began to very slowly and gently undo the wrappings around his legs, murmuring softly the whole time. "There's nothing to be afraid of Pippin. I'm just undoing the bandages around here. They must be uncomfortable for you now. It's all right."  
  
Legolas held Pippin's legs off the blanket slightly as Aragorn slid the loosened material underneath and gradually the soiled bandages lay on the ground. The ranger moved Pippin's legs gently to help restore the circulation, "There that must feel better, Pippin, is that more comfortable?"  
  
Pippin heard the voice and saw the person manipulating his aching legs. It was the one who looked like Strider, the one he called Master. He was asking him questions again. Quick an answer, before the whip fell or a great hand cuffed him across the head. "Y-yes Master," he whispered.  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I'm not your master, little one. I'm Aragorn, Strider, your friend." Pippin looked fearfully at the two great men and the elf and fell into silence once more, waiting for whatever they would do to him next. Sam arrived back with the clean bandages, followed shortly by Frodo and Merry.  
  
The hobbits placed the warm water with the soapwort and lye at Pippin's feet and Merry looked hopefully up at the ranger. "May I talk to him Aragorn? Perhaps he will remember me now."  
  
"All right Merry, but gently, don't rush him." Aragorn collected up the soiled bandages and turned to Boromir. "Could you put these to soak, I must wash them out so they can be re-used, our supplies are very limited."  
  
"If you please, Mr Strider." Sam answered before the soldier could respond. "I'll take them and wash them. They'll be as clean as new."  
  
"I'm sure Sam," Aragorn smiled and handed the eager to help hobbit the dirty material. "Will you wait for the rest, as I must replace most of the bindings?"  
  
Merry meantime knelt by Pippin's head and touched his cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. "Pip? Pip my sweet, it's me, it's Merry. Aragorn is making you better, you'll be well again soon, my love."  
  
Merry! Pippin's mind went into a panic. The others were here, they had untied him, untied his legs, trying to make him better again, that meant only one thing! He would let them do what they wanted, it was all he was fit for. Dogwhore and filthy slut, it was what Master made him say and it was true. But not Merry! No - how could they let Merry of all people touch him? Pippin found his voice. "Nooo! Please not you Merry, no! Don't please don't touch me. Please, please!"  
  
"All right Pip, whatever you want my love, all right don't cry, please don't cry. I won't touch you, I promise." Merry moved back in horror and distress from Pippin's reaction to him.  
  
Frodo caught his cousin's hand and drew him into an embrace. "Don't fret Merry, he'll come round in time. Just leave him to Strider for now. He doesn't know what he's saying."  
  
Aragorn turned quickly back from Sam when he heard Pippin scream at Merry. He moved back to the injured hobbit's side and spoke gently to him, trying to calm his panic. "We're just cleaning you up Pippin. It's all right; we won't hurt you. Look at me, Pippin, please look at me." Aragorn steadied Pippin's head and turned his face to look into his eyes. "Pippin you're safe, it's all over. There are no orcs here, we're not going to do anything to harm you."  
  
Pippin was forced to look at Aragorn now and whispered in his shaky voice. "I'm a-a b-bad h-h-hobbit, you g-got to make me b-better."  
  
Aragorn furrowed his brow as he worked his way through this piece of twisted logic. Suddenly he realised that a choice of word was frightening Pippin. "We're healing your hurts, making you well, little one, not 'better'. You're not bad, Pippin, truly you are a very good and fine hobbit."  
  
"N-no." Pippin struggled managing to pull his face from Aragorn's grasp and look away. "I'm bad hobbit, Master, I know it's m-my fault. I'm Dogwhore, a filthy slut!"  
  
Merry could contain himself no longer. He wrenched out of Frodo's grasp and flew back to Pippin's side. "No Pippin you're a good and golden hobbit, nothing is your fault, you're none of those dreadful things. Pippin! You're my precious, darling boy. Please don't say such things!"  
  
"Merry?" Pippin's voice was almost inaudible now. "Oh Merry, it's a d- dream." He mumbled, "I'm g-glad you n-not here Merry, this a bad, bad place."  
  
"Pippin!" Merry held his little cousin's face. "I'm not a dream, I'm here and you're a good, good hobbit. You're my Pip and I'll never leave you." Merry turned back to the ranger. "Tell him Aragorn, please tell Pip he's good and I'm really here."  
  
"Merry, he's just confused." Aragorn nodded to Frodo who took Merry's shoulders, gently pulling him away from Pippin again. "He doesn't dare to let himself believe he is safe yet. It will take time."  
  
Aragorn gently bathed Pippin's lower body as Frodo led Merry away sobbing with anguish. He reapplied the healing herbs and new bandages.  
  
As Merry was settled by Frodo on his bedroll the two hobbits looked back over to where Aragorn now sat nursing Pippin gently in his arms. The ranger rocked the now passive hobbit and sang to him softly, like a doting father with a newborn. "You see Merry," Frodo said kindly, "Pippin is in the best of hands for the time being. Aragorn is so caring to him, you must trust him."  
  
"I do Frodo," Merry sniffed another tear back. "I trust him with my life, but Frodo, more importantly, I trust him with Pippin's life."  
  
Pippin had calmed down and gazed up at the kind face of the ranger, convinced that the Valar in a brief moment of pity, had send him into a temporary sweet dream. He watched Aragorn's face and listened to the words, happy for once to fall asleep without Umummmum.  
  
Sleep sweetly little one  
  
don't be afraid,  
  
I'll tell you the nice things  
  
of which good dreams are made,  
  
Soft dew-filled mornings  
  
in the first haze of Spring,  
  
Colour filled Summers,  
  
a butterfly's wing.  
  
Sleep gently little one  
  
cry no more tears,  
  
I'll chase away shadows  
  
and vanish your fears  
  
With tales of the woodlands  
  
in Autumn's rich shades,  
  
Ice bright blue Winters,  
  
in beautiful glades.  
  
Sleep deeply little one  
  
nothing will harm you  
  
I'll stay here beside you  
  
Let nothing alarm you,  
  
Close your eyes now  
  
don't be afraid,  
  
While I sing of the good things  
  
from which sweet dreams are made.  
  
**** This has been a Kookaburra/Llinos Co-production - all rights reserved.  
  
Sweet Dreams © Liza Jones 2002. 


	17. Interludes

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 17: Interludes  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
Boromir sat watching Pippin and Icicle. In the moonlight, the warg truly looked her name, with her white coat turning sparkling silver. After Aragorn had finally succumbed to weariness (and the other's pleas) he and the rest of the company had retired for the night, with Boromir taking first watch.  
  
Pippin whimpered in his sleep, and Icicle woke, nuzzling and licking him until the hobbit settled with a sigh. Boromir smiled to himself. The periain woke protective urges in everyone and everything they met it seemed. When Boromir first came across the halflings in Rivendell he was inclined to judge them by their appearance, treating them like children rather than adults. Indeed they sometimes seemed to behave in a childish fashion, loving to eat and play and so naïve and trusting.  
  
Of course as he travelled with them he came to realise they were full- grown adults - except little Pippin. He had not yet reached his majority and in him the wide-eyed innocence was even more apparent. Which made what had happened even harder to bear. However good the healing, whatever charms the elves could weave, the little one had lost his pure and simple innocence forever.  
  
Boromir hoped fervently that Pippin could at least find his trust in people again. The man of Gondor looked up at the moon, vowing to her that the trust would not be misplaced.  
  
Pippin whimpered again, and this time Icicle could not comfort him, though she licked him and curled around him tighter than ever.  
  
Boromir eased himself up, and walked over to the unlikely pair. Patting Icicle on the head, he lowered his muscular frame down on the ground beside her. Then, in what he knew to be a calming feeling for all species, he began to stroke Pippin's ear. In moments the hobbit had calmed down. Boromir looked back up at the silver orb in the sky and recalled a lullaby from his childhood long ago.  
  
On a sea of dreams  
  
your ship gently sails,  
  
Softly it glides,  
  
as the moon above pales,  
  
O'er the mirror-smooth tides  
  
cross the star-studded mere.  
  
Your galleon glides,  
  
to a land without fear.  
  
As stars blend with the sky  
  
there you will go,  
  
Where you no longer cry  
  
and no tears will flow.  
  
****  
  
Frodo stirred in his sleep. He opened his eyes a crack. Something had disturbed him. He looked at Sting, and the blade was dull. Yet he had heard something. Or thought he had. The night-shadows had fallen about him, and the clearing was dim. Often on the road away from Moria he had thought he heard the quick patter of feet. Even now he heard it. He turned his head swiftly. There were two tiny beams of light at the forest's edge, or for a moment he thought he saw them, but they turned aside at once and vanished.  
  
-J.R.R. Tolkien (mostly)  
  
****  
  
Legolas shifted position on his perch. He was seated on a rock above Pippin, where he could easily reach the sleeping perian if need be. For the moment, Pippin was quiet. When Boromir had woken the elf, he warned Legolas that Pippin had become restless several times during the night.  
  
The elf slowly became aware that he was being watched. After scanning the forest eaves, but seeing nothing, he finally looked down at his feet. A pair of golden eyes looked up at him. Legolas smiled to himself. //So it's just you, Milady.// Feeling in need of some comfort himself, he decided to enter her mind again. The protectiveness the warg felt for them all was a soothing balm on Legolas' soul, and he longed to feel the motherly tenderness after such a trying day.  
  
Anchoring himself in his body, he sent out a tendril to Icicle, while at the same time blanketing her mind with calmness. Though at first he had thought her animal mind disorganised and confusing, he now felt relief in its simplicity.  
  
:?: She sent.  
  
Legolas formed a picture of himself snuggled up to her. A sense of amusement manifested. Legolas was startled; he had never thought animals to be capable of that. Yet he remembered with chagrin some of the falls he had taken when he first learned to ride, and some of the whinnies the horses would sound in his direction. He decided that it was time to see where her loyalties lay. Though he trusted her with Pippin, or with any of the Fellowship, he wondered what would happen if her old masters, the orcs, were to show up. Which would she choose? He formed an image of an orc.  
  
The change in the state of her thought was immediate. Her hackles rose, and all of her senses seemed to kick into a full gallop. Then another image passed from Icicle to Legolas. OF an orc and Pippin. The orc was coming at Pip, but then Icicle herself was in the picture. Icicle jumping at the orc and...  
  
Legolas had to close his mental "eyes" at the warg's vision of what she would like to do to the ones that had hurt her "cub".  
  
Pippin began to stir at Icicle's low growling. Legolas quickly soothed her mind, and sent an image of Pippin safe and sound, in an underground den such as wolves used. Icicle's thoughts calmed down immediately and she curled back around Pippin to resume her interrupted slumber.  
  
Legolas looked at the moon, which was now high above the southern horizon, and began to sing softly.  
  
Dream sweet dreams  
  
and while you do  
  
I'll be watching over you.  
  
A lasta quettanya (Hear my words)  
  
perian tithen muin (dear little halfling)  
  
losto nûr (sleep deep)  
  
îdh tûr (you won rest)  
  
elenath hodo nuin. (lie still under the stars)  
  
nin si mellon (Here is a friend)  
  
nai tiruvantel (to watch you)  
  
ar varyuvantel (to guard you)  
  
anann naer Pippin (long time, sad Pippin,)  
  
oltha mell. (dream sweetly)  
  
****  
  
Gimli stomped over to Legolas batting his arms about himself to keep warm. "How's the little hobbit?" his gruff tone hiding his real concern.  
  
"Restless," Legolas climbed down from the rock. "The hurt of his mind and body keep him from sound sleep, but it is not to be wondered at."  
  
"Hmmph." Gimli dropped his rolled up sleeping pack next to Pippin and sat on it. "I would like to go back to Moria now and cull a few orc heads for what they did."  
  
"That will not help the perian now, friend Gimli," Legolas smiled a little at the dwarf's desire to cleave heads to make things right. "He needs gentle care, not retribution."  
  
"I understand, Master Elf," Gimli snorted, "but I am no nursemaid."  
  
"He needs to rest." Legolas put his hand gently on Icicle's head. "The mother warg helps greatly, but there is only so much she can do."  
  
"What are you suggesting?" Gimli harrumphed a little embarrassed at the idea, "that I sing him a lullaby?"  
  
"If he becomes restless, that seems to help." Legolas did not catch the note of irony in Gimli's tone. "Talk or sing to him - you have dwarvish lullabies I take it?"  
  
"We.. um I don't recall any, but I'm sure." Gimli never liked to confess to the elf there was anything the elves could do that dwarves could not.  
  
"You'll think of something." Legolas, with one last pat to Icicle, stood to go to his bedroll, "But call me if you cannot sooth him." and with that the elf was gone.  
  
He looked at the hobbit; he seemed peaceful enough at the moment. But then the sad face twitched in pain and hurt and Pippin tried to balk against the bandages holding his legs together. Icicle whined a little, looking up at the dwarf.  
  
"Hmmph! Lullabies indeed." But the thought made Gimli stretched his mind back to long ago and far away. He remembered the dim light of a cavern, safe, protecting and a deep voice singing.  
  
Gimli settled a little closer to Pippin and moved a stray curl out of his eyes. Icicle licked the dwarf's hand as he touched the hobbit's face. Pippin trembled at the touch and made a small hiccupping sound which gradually turned into a sob.  
  
"Hush, hush, little one." Gimli soothed Pippin's curls and stroked the still bruised little face. The dwarf glanced surreptitiously around and when he decided the others were asleep, put his face closer to Pippin's and, in a deep baritone, half in Westron and half in Dwarvish sang Pippin back to sleep.  
  
Deep in the caverns  
  
All is calm  
  
Too deep for dragons  
  
safe from harm  
  
Peidio phoeni (do not worry)  
  
bakhgen bakh (small man child)  
  
sefyll wrth ti (stands by you)  
  
Baruk Khazâd (the axes of the dwarves)  
  
Under the stone  
  
where diamonds grow  
  
Nothing is known  
  
for naught will show  
  
Cwsg yn dawel (sleep quietly)  
  
milwyr bakh (little soldier)  
  
noddi yr cawell (protects your cradle)  
  
Baruk Khazâd (the axes of the dwarves)  
  
Dug and delven  
  
are our halls  
  
Devices elven  
  
protect the walls  
  
Credu mewn fi (trust in me)  
  
annwyl bakh (small dear)  
  
perthyn i ti (to you belongs)  
  
Baruk Khazâd (the axes of the dwarves)  
  
**** Pippin looked up at the orc faces above him. There were so many, no, please, he couldn't take that amount. The orcs reached for him, and touched him, using and using and using him, never stopping. Pippin cried out for someone to help him, anyone, just make the pain and humiliation stop.  
  
A bright light made his eyes hurt. The weight on his back and the thrusting between his legs vanished. The harsh, mocking voices had stopped too. The light no longer hurt his eyes, but became a gentle ambiance, clean and soft after the dirty darkness of the orcs and their prison.  
  
A pair of gentle arms encircled him and held him close to a warm, comforting body, rocking him as if he was a newborn babe. Pippin looked up at the face of the one who held him. He saw a long white beard, bushy eyebrows, and a pipe.  
  
"G-g-gandalf?" He said in a whisper. The wizard smiled sadly down at him, and one hand began to stroke Pippin's curls.  
  
"Yes, dear Pippin. It is I." the gravely bass that was so familiar after the long road seemed to echo up from Pippin's head, and Gandalf's mouth did not move. Pippin's mouth worked open and closed in wordless astonishment several times before the dam broke. He buried his head in the soft white beard and howled. He sobbed brokenly, and Gandalf just rocked him to and fro, speaking soft words of comfort into the little pointed ear. They stayed that way for a long while, until finally Pippin had no more tears. He turned his little face up to Gandalf again, his swollen eyes taking in every detail. "Shhh, little one. I know it is hard, and that you blame yourself for many things which were no fault of your own."  
  
"B-but Gandalf, aren't you angry with me?" Pippin asked fearfully.  
  
"Dear little Took, why would I be angry with the sweetest hobbit I know?"  
  
"B-but the, well, an-an-d the s-s-stone, it made the fire thing c- come, and," here Pippin's voice threatened to break into weeping again "th- then you fell, and it's all my fault and..." before Pippin could say more Gandalf put a finger to his lips.  
  
"No more blaming yourself for anything. You were not sent to the orc lair as a punishment. Evil had you in its clutches, but you were plucked from its claws." Gandalf lifted Pippin up a bit and gently kissed his brow. Pippin felt a warmth surge through his limbs, and his hurts vanished, although he still felt pain in his heart.  
  
"Oh Gandalf, you don't know what I did. I did v-very b-b-bad things, a-and I shouldn't be with you or the Fellowship..."  
  
"I know what was done to you, dear Pippin. Done TO you. You had no choice in the matter and are not to blame."  
  
"B-but then why does it hu-hurt so much? Why d-did they do those things to me, I don't understand, please Gandalf why? I must have done something very bad..." Pippin began to sob from the depths of his little broken heart burying his face into the wizard's beard. "Please tell me what I did? Please, I want to be better, please." he clutched hold of Gandalf's cloak as he pleaded for an explanation.  
  
"Poor little Pippin." Gandalf held him close and rocked him again. "There is no explanation, what happened was bad and wrong. But the Valar decreed you should survive and now that is what you must do."  
  
Pippin looked up at the kindly face in panic. "I can't, I can't. I don't know how."  
  
"You have to trust in the others and in yourself, believe in the power of good." Gandalf pulled the little one in close again. "Sleep now Pippin, I will come to you again at need. Sleep now."  
  
After the emotion of seeing the wizard, the little hobbit was completely spent, and fell asleep to Gandalf's soft song.  
  
Through the night,  
  
I'll hold you tight  
  
When things unseen  
  
Give you fright  
  
I'll be here  
  
Don't you fear  
  
Through the darkness  
  
Through the night  
  
Go to sleep,  
  
I will keep  
  
you safely here  
  
Through the night  
  
Pippin whimpered in his sleep several times, always to orcs surrounding him and touching him, but Gandalf was immediately by his side, driving them away and comforting Pippin back to safer dreams.  
  
***  
  
Sea of Dreams © Paula Berry & Liza Jones 2002  
  
A Lasta Quettanya © Liza Jones 2002  
  
Caverns © Liza Jones 2002  
  
Through The Night © Paula Berry & Liza Jones 2002  
  
A/N (Llinos)  
  
The lullaby Gimli sings is rendered in English to represent Westron and in Welsh to represent Dwarvish. The format and spelling of the Welsh used has been altered somewhat to conform more with Dwarvish language structure, together with the use of some actual Dwarvish words.  
  
The Elvish is probably just bad - for which I apologise, but all the poetry in this story is original, written by either Kookaburra or me.  
  
Llinos  
  
*** A/N: Kookaburra-  
  
Llinos is much too modest. She pretty much wrote all of the poetry. I tried, but we decided it would be best for me to stop before I hurt myself. ;-) 


	18. Refused

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 18: Refused  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
A/N: Somewhat OOC. Elf lovers beware.  
  
Disclaimer: Well, duh.  
  
As dawn broke Aragorn had risen again and examined Pippin carefully. His temperature was higher and the ranger feared the venereal disease was taking hold, making him feverish and ill. He needed urgent treatment for this, it was a sore trial for someone in otherwise good health, but Pippin had no resistance or resources left.  
  
Sam was already awake and busy, preparing breakfast over a tiny fire he had lit. Aragorn went over to him. "I need the fungus of which we spoke, Sam. Pippin is feverish and he needs its healing properties quite soon."  
  
"I know where they grow," Sam said always pleased when Aragorn called on him for help. "I found some two days ago. It's the snake butter mushroom, as we calls it."  
  
"Aye Sam that's the one." Aragorn smiled at the knowledgeable little gardener, "could you fetch me some now? I'm sure Gimli will go with you for protection." The whole camp was now stirring and the dwarf collected his axe ready to escort Sam on his mission.  
  
"We'll finish making breakfast." Frodo saw the torn look on Sam's face, wanting to rush off to find medicine for Pippin, but reluctant to leave his cooking duties.  
  
"But Mr Frodo, mind we've only got a little of the flour left, those drop scones need." Sam started to protest.  
  
"Off you go Sam." Frodo took up the pan and started to shake the contents less than expertly. Sam bit his lip before he said anything derogatory about Frodo's cooking and quickly left with Gimli.  
  
Legolas meanwhile had turned Pippin carefully on his side, nestling him into the warg so that she could nurse him. Aragorn came and stood beside them waiting for the elf to finish arranging the halfling. "It is good that the warg can still make milk for him." Aragorn bent to stroke Icicle's head. "It will have to be all the sustenance he has for now."  
  
Legolas looked at Aragorn in surprise. "But surely you would want the little one weaned soon to speed his recovery both in body and mind?"  
  
"The disease is taking hold, I fear." Aragorn shook his head a little in dismay. "He will need to fast to prevent it from worsening. I have sent Sam for a healing fungus, that alone he must eat, then his system should be purged to cure the syphilis, although I hope the milk will not harm him, it is little enough."  
  
Aragorn had not actually tried to feed Pippin anything so far. He was very nervous at how the halfling would react to being given the mushroom. Anything that had to be put in his mouth would be bound to make him react. He remembered the way Pippin had been so afraid when he made him suck medicine from his finger and later how he had acquiesced to the procedure, even seeking it in a resigned and tortured way, perhaps believing he would be beaten if he did not. "Which had probably been the case."  
  
"What was the case?" Aragorn was startled to see Sam standing there, looking quizzically at him with his head on one side.  
  
"Nothing. I'm sorry," The ranger realised his thoughts had become spoken. "Ah you have it. Well done Sam!" Aragorn took one of the two large mushrooms and knelt down to Pippin. Icicle growled a little warning and placed a large paw on Pippin's head.  
  
"It's all right little mother," Aragorn glanced back up to Sam and Gimli who had now joined him. "Could you two persuade Icicle that it's time for breakfast, that's if Frodo hasn't incinerated it all."  
  
"Come on Icicle, food." Gimli coaxed the warg to leave her cub for a moment. She looked at Aragorn, her head on one side and decided he could baby-sit for a while. Gimli slipped a leash on her and led her over to the small fire. Sam went as well, anxious to rescue what smelled suspiciously like a somewhat overcooked breakfast.  
  
Pippin had dozed back off snuggled up to Ice Fang, but as she left he woke again, fearful without the warmth of the warg next to him. Aragorn gently enfolded him and sat him up, lifting him onto his lap.  
  
Pippin looked up fearfully. It was Master. The dreams had left him. It had seemed for a while that he was safe, that kind voices and gentle arms had surrounded him. Now he was thrust back into reality, his waking nightmare had returned. Master, the brutal orc, that in the hobbit's weird perception looked like dear Strider, was holding him, touching him.  
  
"It's all right Pippin." The voice was Strider's, perhaps it was true, Pippin scarcely dared believe it, nightmares, dreams and reality, they were all becoming so blurred.  
  
"I need you to eat this nice mushroom for me." Strider/Master tore off a piece of mushroom and put it to his lips his large fingers pushing it into his mouth.  
  
**** Flashback ****  
  
"C'mon little rat! We've get ter feed ya somthin' if'n yer gonna stay alive fer the chief. 'Ere, lads! give us one 'o those nice big 'shrooms." Crugsyl took him over to a bench and sat Pippin in his lap. He held up a large, brown mushroom. Pippin's mouth was watering, he desperately wanted to eat, but he was justifiably wary of anything the orcs wanted to put into his mouth. He tried to avoid the mushroom as it was forced at him, but huge hands gripped his face and made him open his mouth.  
  
Crugsyl broke off a piece of the mushroom and stuffed it down Pippin's throat. Pippin gagged on the huge finger, but managed to swallow the piece of fungus. Crugsyl repeated the gesture until the mushroom was all gone. His vision swam, and he felt like lead weights had been tied to his limbs.  
  
****  
  
Pippin clamped him mouth shut as tightly as he could. He had forgotten what hunger was, but he remembered very well what happened when he had eaten the mushroom.  
  
"Please, Master, please," Pippin squeaked trying not to open his mouth too much for fear of the mushroom being pushed inside. "Master, don't make me, please, I'll be good, I'll suck and do what you want. I'll be a good dog. Please don't make me."  
  
"Pippin, it's only a mushroom. It's to make you bett." Aragorn remembered that word was misunderstood. "It's to stop you being ill. Pippin, dear heart, please trust me."  
  
The others now, alerted by Pippin's crying came over to see what had distressed him so much. Merry stood well back, remembering Aragorn's warnings but Legolas and Boromir came closer to see if they could help in some way.  
  
Aragorn did not force the mushroom into the hobbits mouth but he did not release him either. Pippin squirmed in the ranger's arms; frantic with fear for what would happen when he was made to eat the fungus.  
  
**** Flashback ****  
  
Pippin looked up at Boromir. The rest of the Fellowship stood around him in a circle, laughing and pointing at him. //Boromir! Help me please, I'm so scared, I just want to go home, I'll never annoy you again, just help me please// Then he saw the cruel whip in Boromir's hand. //no, please Boromir, why are you mad with me, I'm sorry, s-s-sorry, please...// The lash descended and Pippin screamed. The fire licked his back many times, and just before he blacked out, he could see Boromir passing the whip to Strider and Legolas.  
  
****  
  
"Will he not take it?" Boromir stood in front of the ranger, looking with concern at Pippin's huddled form in Aragorn's lap. The hobbit's eyes were filled with fear and his mouth was clamped tightly shut.  
  
"No, I suspect he fears to have things put in his mouth." Aragorn withdrew the piece of fungus. "Although I would have thought a mushroom would tempt him more than most things, Merry says all hobbits love mushrooms, Pippin included."  
  
"Does it matter?" Boromir queried. "Surely he has enough sustenance from the warg's milk."  
  
"It is for medicinal purposes, not nutrition, that he needs to eat it." Aragorn knew he had to get Pippin to take the mushroom somehow. "I would get Sam to cook it, but that will rob it of its potency."  
  
"Break it smaller," suggested Frodo. "Try just a tiny piece."  
  
Aragorn tore the merest shred off the piece of mushroom and finally managed to put that in Pippin's mouth but this caused Pippin to hyperventilate so badly that he could not be made to have any more.  
  
"Perhaps it's because you're putting it in his mouth," Legolas offered. "Can you not take the bandages from his arms and let him feed himself?"  
  
"That is worth trying." Aragorn agreed and carefully undid the restricting bindings, while Sam took the mushroom to chop it up and put it in a dish.  
  
Aragorn sat a bemused Pippin down on the ground and offered the dish to him. "Come on Pippin, eat the mushroom, it's your favourite." Pippin cringed away, so Aragorn placed the dish on the ground just in front of him and stepped back a pace.  
  
Pippin was utterly confused and muddled now. He looked up at the others standing around him, gazing down at him, suddenly all he could see were orc faces. Then Master was there, he was urging him to eat from a dish. This was familiar, but terrible. He knew what would happen - if he did not eat he would be beaten, if he did he would be burnt with a hot poker. But then would come the painful gag. He had to try and do something.  
  
As Pippin sat on the ground large tears rolled down his cheeks and he sobbed bitterly in his agony of indecision, knowing that whatever he did it would be wrong.  
  
"Please Pippin, try and eat it," Frodo coaxed him. "It's quite safe, it won't hurt you."  
  
The gentle voice was different, softer, more familiar, less frightening. Pippin tentatively reached out to the plate. Then in a panic pulled his hand away as if remembering a hurt, a shock. He crouched down on all fours and pushed his head towards the plate. Frodo started to say something, but Aragorn caught his eye and shook his head. It was important for Pippin to eat this mushroom no matter how he did it.  
  
He caught a small piece in his teeth and backed away, but almost immediately he dropped it with a heart-rending scream. He curled up into a foetal ball and refused to move, until they finally brought Ice fang back and he buried his face in her coat, too distraught to even look up.  
  
"We can't upset him any more." Aragorn decided. "We need to move on today and start soon if we are to reach Lothlórien by nightfall. Sam take a few more of the mushrooms with us and we will have to try again later."  
  
Pippin's bandages were changed again, although Aragorn decided to leave his arms unbound now, as he did not move too much. Frodo and Sam dressed Pippin carefully in a spare shirt and then the hobbit was wrapped in several blankets and carried in turn by Legolas and the two men, whilst Gimli took charge of Icicle.  
  
The party was soon packed and ready to go, each of the hobbits carrying more than usual, as the baggage was spread around to allow one less pack for whoever was carrying Pippin. Although Boromir could not help but comment how frighteningly light the little one had become.  
  
The terrain gradually changed as they journeyed, becoming less rocky as they descended to a lush green valley with more and more trees. Legolas started to look very comfortable and relaxed, his growing composure in stark contrast to Gimli's increasing discomfort and anxiety.  
  
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Aragorn?" He asked yet again. "Surely there will be some caves where we could rest the little one more safely."  
  
Suddenly the company found themselves surrounded by a ring of fair elves clad cunningly to blend in with the woods. A masterly seeming elf stepped forward.  
  
"You breathed so loud we could have shot you in the dark." He said with a distinct sneer in his voice. Turning to Legolas he said something in elvish. Frodo could only understand bits and pieces of it, as he only knew the language of the elves of Mirkwood. It was something about bringing a taint into...someplace. Some sort of shiny plant. Legolas answered the elf. They went on like this for a few minutes, and soon Aragorn got involved. Frodo caught some more words. "hadhod" kept popping into the conversation, so Frodo figured the elves were simply being stubborn about letting Gimli in. Finally the "animated discussion" died down, and Aragorn and Legolas turned to the group.  
  
"I am afraid that my kinsmen are being rather inhospitable," said Legolas. "They will allow Master Gimli in on one condition. He must enter Lothlórien blindfolded." Gimli naturally did not take this very well. Frodo decided that he did not really like the blonde elf smiling smugly at him from several yards away.  
  
At that moment Icicle decided to make her appearance. The Fellowship had let her off the leash as she was certainly not going to abandon Pippin, and it gave her a chance to stretch her legs, although it was slightly disconcerting when she started to bring back small animals and present them to whoever was carrying Pippin.  
  
When the warg suddenly stuck her head out from a bush behind Merry, there was a collective gasp of horror from the elves, and all the bows immediately oriented on her.  
  
"Wait!" cried Aragorn, "Do not shoot, she is harmless!" The elf in charge looked at Aragorn as if he had suddenly grown another head.  
  
"A warg? Harmless? Surely you jest! Now stand aside so that I can send the beast to the netherworld where its ilk belongs!"  
  
At this, Merry knelt down and took Icicle's head in his arms. He was soon joined by Frodo and Sam. "P-please, Mr. Elf, Icicle is keeping poor Mr. Pippin alive. He needs her!" The elf's eyebrows, while not touching his hairline, were making a valiant attempt.  
  
"Icicle?" he asked incredulously. "It has a name?  
  
"Not 'it', she." Corrected Merry. "And she's quite tame. And Pippin needs her!"  
  
"Pippin?"  
  
Boromir stepped forwards with the tiny blanket wrapped form in his arms. "One of our number who fell into the clutches of the orcs of Moria. His hurts are grievous, and he requires Icicle's milk and care." Haldir reached out and drew back the fold of cloth that covered Pippin's face. As the light hit Pippin's eyes they blinked slowly open. Haldir did not miss the parasites scurrying for cover in the perian's curls. His lip raised slightly in disgust.  
  
By this time Pippin's eyes had finished focusing, and he realised that he was being examined by a stranger. Now his eyes widened in fear. Boromir could feel his breaths coming faster and shorter. He moved away so as to spare Pippin the terror, and replaced the blanket over the frightened hobbit's face.  
  
The elf cocked a haughtily arched eyebrow. "The sight of my face does not usually send children into a panic. Perhaps we should discuss the situation over a meal." At his orders food was brought forth and the travellers at least ate well as it was a fine repast.  
  
The elf was more horrified than Merry had been when Boromir set Pippin against Icicle's side to suckle. The hobbits learned that the name of the elf was Haldir. Aragorn explained what was necessary for Haldir to know about what had happened to Pippin and he sat in stony silence for a minute after Aragorn finished.  
  
"You ask much, Legolas." He finally said. "I do not know if it may all be granted on account of kinship. The dwarf we were hard put to allow, but a warg and one who has orc-taint..." Haldir did not get a chance to finish. Merry jumped up with a cry of rage.  
  
"You make it sound as if it were Pippin's fault!" He shouted. "Pippin was kidnapped! He was forced against his will! Who knows what horrors were visited on him in the caves, and you suggest that it was somehow his fault!" Aragorn tried to calm him down to no avail. He had to restrain Merry from jumping on the superior elf and striking him with his fist. Merry raged on. "Do you think Pippin WANTED to be taken, to be... to be..." Merry's voice broke, and already tears were leaking down his face. His anger burned out and he allowed Strider to ease him back down to a sitting position. Merry was still breathing hard from his outburst for some time. Haldir did not answer the hobbit.  
  
Pippin lay huddled up against Icicle while this argument continued. He was very confused about where he was and what the talk was about. His fever had increased and Umummmum seemed upset, she was giving low growls every so often. He could hear the new one speaking, the one who looked like Legolas, but sounded quite different, so Pippin reasoned he must be an elf too. He knew they were all talking about him and the new strange elf said he was an orc. 'Was that true?' Pippin wondered. 'That must be why the others were beating him and trying to make him better, he had been turned into an orc, he wasn't a hobbit any more.' Pippin heard the others arguing with the elf, Merry was shouting. 'Why had they brought him here? Pippin wondered. 'Perhaps they wanted the elves to turn him back into a hobbit. But this elf obviously didn't think he was worth the trouble.'  
  
"Surely elves do not pass judgement on the innocent victims of their enemies." Aragorn was as outraged as Merry, but controlled his anger.  
  
"I will leave that decision to the Lady," Haldir conceded at last. "But if the dwarf is to enter he must be blindfolded, as must this orc-tainted creature."  
  
"If you blindfold one of our Fellowship," Legolas stood up, barely concealing his annoyance, "you will blindfold us all."  
  
His show of solidarity did not impress Haldir. The elf merely nodded. "So be it."  
  
****  
  
When the company was ready to be blindfolded, the elves brought forth many strips of cloth, but as one approached Pippin, Boromir spoke up.  
  
"Surely we can spare this little one having his eyes bound against the light. The blanket will be kept over his face the entire time."  
  
"Our law is our law," replied Haldir. "this one in particular must be blindfolded." He moved towards Pippin with a strip of cloth in his hands. Boromir acquiesced and once again uncovered Pippin's face. Pippin was awake this time, but still blinked owlishly at the light.  
  
The elf that did not like him, the one who knew he was now an orc and not a hobbit was coming towards him with piece of fabric. Pippin shrank down in Boromir's arms, trying not to remember. The orc hands roughly tying the blindfold over his eyes, then vicious shoves sending him reeling...  
  
Haldir placed the blindfold over Pippin's streaming eyes and tied it gently, trying not to touch the infested scalp too much. At this, Pippin started to whimper and shake, his cries gaining intensity with each passing moment. Boromir tried to soothe him.  
  
"Shh... there now Pippin," the big Gondorian murmured softly, "nothing's going to hurt you, I've got you..." But Pippin was inconsolable. Finally Haldir had had enough. He reached out to Pippin to try and restrain the hobbit.  
  
"For Valar's sake be quiet!"  
  
A white blur exploded from the ground behind Boromir with a roar to match. Haldir yelled in pain and shock as Icefang sank her teeth into his hand.  
  
An arrow flew from an elven bow. Legolas had not seen any creature move as fast as Icicle did. The warg released Haldir's hand and leapt sideways, the arrow passing through the long hair on her stomach. She landed with her paws splayed out, hair standing on end, lips curled back to reveal fangs as long as a man's thumb.  
  
"That was hardly necessary," snapped Legolas at the elf who had fired. "The animal was just protecting him from what she thought was an attack."  
  
Haldir clasped his injured hand to his torso. "My hand is badly bitten, he complained. "It is obviously a dangerous creature! Now stand aside so that we can do what we should have done in the first place. He looked over to the hobbits, who had dashed in front of Icicle and were shielding her with their bodies. "I order you to stand aside! If you do not comply then you will share her fate!" The three hobbits suddenly found themselves looking at the points of far too many arrows to count, each with a stern, pitiless elf behind it.  
  
Aragorn held his breath. He feared that any action on his part would goad the elves to action. The hobbits would have to get out of this themselves.  
  
***  
  
Ok, Ok, you can flame me if you want. I do not like Haldir, can you tell? 


	19. Followed

Moria's Revenge, chapter 19: Followed  
  
Author: Llinos  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own anything.  
  
***  
  
It was several days before Lugsta had succeeded in his plan to nick a cask of ale and also manage to drink himself into something resembling a stupor. However the rest of his plan had not gone according to the original design. He had not stayed in his quarters as he did not have the sense to fall over when he was really drunk and he had not forgotten about his abortive mission to kill the little Dogwhore.  
  
Instead he had stumbled back into the mess hall and started singing bawdy songs with the lads. Which seemed like an excellent idea at the time since they had several bottles of whiskey and he still had a bit of room left.  
  
"'Ere Lugsy!" Frugly the big uruk had come into the mess hall. "You little road apple, did you finish off that there Dogwhore? We could 'a done wiv a bit more of that sweet little arse."  
  
"Cheef'ses ordrersshh" Lugsta slurred. "Yousshh knowssh thass!"  
  
"Yeah, but yer didn't 'ave to tell no-ones, it was small enough. Could 'a stuck it in yer bleedin' pocket 'n brung it back." Frugly laughed bawdily "Would've made a fortune sellin' bits o' that round the mess, while it lasted."  
  
"D'yersshh finkshh?" Lugsta put his drunken face into Frugly's holding his arm in a conspiratorial fashion. "Well I tell shou - youssh. It ain't dead, cause that pratt Crugsie, 'e dint get it done proper. Thems lot comes back an tooksh it off 'n all. I dint get a chance a' it! Naw you 'n' me, Frugsie, we could go get it an' make a bit o' loot shellin' it roun' in 'ere."  
  
"You fuggin' eejit!" Frugly pulled his arm away letting the sotted Lugsta fall to the floor. "I knew the Chief'd be sorry leavin' a bleedin' goblin to do a job like that'n. Yer gonna be real sorry yer can't hold yer ale."  
  
The big uruk stormed off to report this piece of news to the Chief. He gave one perfunctory knock on the florin spiked door and strode in. The Chief was busy with a small orc, although he did not seem to be taking much pleasure in the act. Frugly waited in silence until his boss had finished and was adjusting his dress. The little orc fled past him and out of the door.  
  
"Wassa matter, Frugly? Can't I get any fugging peace!" He snarled.  
  
"It's that little Dogwhore, I come about." Frugly began.  
  
"Yeah well, you screwed up and it's dead now anyways."  
  
"No Chief, it ain't." Frugly watched his boss's face change, his eyes narrowed and his lips curled back in anger. "It's Lugsta what screwed up. He and Crugsyl never got it done. The others took it back 'n all. Just thought yer should know. Shame 'cause it was a good little lay."  
  
"What!" The Chief looked as if he might explode with apoplexy. "Get that Lugsta in 'ere now!"  
  
"'E's pissed out of 'is mind, Chief." Frugly was going to enjoy this. He had been extremely pissed off himself when the boss had given the assignment to the poxy goblins, he and the lads had been planning on having the Dogwhore again on the way to where they would take out his innards. They had also been running a book on how long it would last. All that fun had been ruined when they lost the job, just for getting drunk. Well now Lugsta was drunk and had given himself away and serves him right.  
  
"Get 'im anyway - NOW!"  
  
Frugly practically ran down the corridor, collecting his two mates on the way, they hauled the drunken Lugsta back to the Chief's den and chucked him on the floor.  
  
"So! Yer didn't kill the Dogwhore, you lying piece of dung!" The Chief kicked at the rolling orc. "And where's my fugging warg? She ain't come back yet. You useless bastard. Get up!" He kicked at Lugsta again, but the orc was too drunk to react very much.  
  
"Want us to bring 'im round a bit boss?" Frugly suggested. He picked up a water jug and emptied the contents over the orc, then hauled him to his feet again and shook him until his bones rattled. Finally he set him on his knees in front of the Chief, the shock of the rough treatment making him realise his predicament.  
  
"Now you piece of dung!" The Chief spat. "Get out there and get my warg back an' get that Dogwhore back and get it done right this time. 'N you lot, you go with 'im an' make sure the dogwhore's either back 'ere or dead. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Yes Chief!" The Uruks suddenly realised that grassing Lugsta had perhaps not been the best idea they had ever had, but there was nothing to be done now except go find the little rat.  
  
"It could be worse," Frugly pointed out, as the two Uruks dragged the sodden Lugsta along the passageway. "At least we get to have the little whore again, that or rip its innards out."  
  
****  
  
Lugsta sobered up a little once the four were outside and on the move. The Uruks collected a patrol of a dozen smaller orcs all armed with bows and swords and set off after their quarry.  
  
They quickly found the camp that the Fellowship had made. "Reckon they're not that long gone," Gruska sniffed at the remains of some meat he had found. "We'll catch up to 'em by nightfall."  
  
They tracked along the route the Fellowship had taken without too much difficulty, although Frugly and the other Uruk, Mugshup were becoming increasingly nervous about the terrain. "Don't feel too happy down in this 'ere valley," Mugshup complained. "We're gettin' a bit fuggin' close to dem elveses, they's can be preety tricksy when deys wants."  
  
"Ahh stop yer belly-achin'!" Gruska snapped. "Yer heard what the boss says, 'n if'n we don't find it, we knows oo's gonna pay wiv 'is 'ead!" Gruska booted the unlucky Lugsta in the backside.  
  
"Yeah, keeps 'im in front." Frugly pushed the smaller orc on with his boot as well. "It's all 'is bleedin' fault this, 'im 'n 'is big gob!"  
  
"Look oo's talkin'!" Gruska pulled his bow into readiness and signalled to the rest of the patrol to arm themselves. "You was the one went 'n told the Chief 'n all."  
  
"Yeah well shuddup the lot of yer!" Mugshup snarled. "Keep it down, there's somefink up ahead o' us. Reckon it's them."  
  
The orcs all crept closer staying hidden behind the trees. They could see a large group of elves, which was not surprising as they were on the borders to the cursed wood of the Witch-Queen. Normally the orcs would have been seen by now but there were the others too and they seemed to be having trouble.  
  
"Dey's argufyin' wiv each other." Mugshup whispered. "It's dem 'n all. Dat biggun dere," he pointed at Boromir. "'Ee's got the little Dogwhore, got 'im in dat blanket."  
  
"Yeah 'n' there's the Chief's warg. Fuggin' cheek, they pinched 'er 'n all." Gruska nocked an arrow to his bow. "if'n they goes into that there wood, we ain't gonna get no chance at 'em agin." Frugly climbed up into a tree to get a better view. He called softly down, "There's only a dozen. Reckons we can take 'em out if'n we're quick, we got the drop on 'em right now. Shoot half afore they even spot us." He crawled out along the branch until he was practically over the party and got ready to signal the others.  
  
"Tell yer what else," Mugshup added. "Dey's got three more o' dem little half sized beauties dere, reckon dey's all be a good lay like the Dogwhore one."  
  
Gruska turned to the armed patrol who all were readied. "Right, yer all heard. On Frugly's signal, take out the elves an' the bigguns, try 'n' miss the littluns 'n yer can 'ave one 'on 'em fer yerselves."  
  
****  
  
The three hobbits suddenly found themselves looking at the points of far too many arrows to count, each with a stern, pitiless elf behind it.  
  
Pippin stirred in Boromir's arms and opened his eyes again. Boromir had taken off the blindfold. Waking and sleeping had become very blurred in Pippin's fevered state, but suddenly his eyes focussed on something he knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt was real. It was Frugly - the terrible Uruk that had. . . that had. . .  
  
Pippin eyes widened in terror and he screamed a loud terrifying shriek that echoed through the quiet, serene woods of Lothlórien.  
  
The elves' eyes were automatically drawn up to see what the halfling had been so frightened by to draw such a response. They all saw the orc at the same moment and twenty bows suddenly swept away from the hobbits and fired at the Uruk simultaneously.  
  
He fell from the tree, narrowly missing Boromir, twenty arrows embedded in his body, never to draw breath again.  
  
A barrage of arrows flew from the trees, but most of the orcs had been watching Frugly for the signal to fire and were somewhat thrown when he fell from the tree instead, stuck like a porcupine.  
  
Aragorn quickly shepherded the hobbits out of the line of fire behind a wide tree and Boromir swiftly joined them with Pippin, holding the little one close and telling him he was safe, that no one would touch him.  
  
Icicle followed the hobbits and crouched down beside them growling at the orcs, she was wise enough to know what many arrows could do but would still defend the hobbits at need.  
  
There was soon such a need. Mugshup went straight for the halflings, thinking that if he could at least get one of them or Icefang, the chief might let him live. But he had not counted on the wargs' change of allegiance. Icefang sprang for him, and before he had a chance to even raise his shield, tore his throat out.  
  
The elves had sighted the enemy now and although two had been hit, none was fatally wounded and they all returned fire scoring many kills and scattering the rest.  
  
Suddenly a goblin burst out of the bushes next to Haldir. With his injured hand, he parried it's scimitar clumsily. None of the elves could fire an arrow for fear of hitting their leader. Haldir managed to duck and roll, expecting to feel the blade between his shoulders. Then a loud war cry was bawled practically in his ear, and there was a sound like a ripe melon being crushed, then a weight pinned his legs to the ground. The dwarf stood over him, with orc blood on his axe and his face twisted in rage. The orc was lying across Haldir's feet, its head smashed in.  
  
Gruska was wounded but not to death and he retreated, the depleted troops following as best they could. Lugsta lay still with an arrow in his neck, the price for getting drunk dearly paid.  
  
Once the orcs were routed Aragorn solicitously looked at all the hobbits to make sure they were unharmed enquired after Gimli and Legolas and even checked the blood spattered Icicle to make sure she had sustained no injury.  
  
"Is the little one all right?" The ranger asked Boromir. "What happened exactly?"  
  
"He saved everyone." Boromir stated baldly. "He saw the orc in the tree because I took the blindfold off his eyes to calm him. That was what alerted the elves to the presence of the orcs."  
  
Aragorn turned to Haldir with a slight shrug, "It seems the little one saved us all then, and even the warg killed an orc. Would you still require a blindfold, and deny Icicle entry?"  
  
Haldir let out a held breath and shook his head. "Very well, I concede, no blindfolds, but I would point out that it was he that probably led the orcs here in the first place."  
  
Aragorn bowed his head in acceptance, choosing to ignore the final point made by the haughty elf. But he whispered to Boromir. "There's no pleasing some elves is there!"  
  
**** A/N: Thank you sooo much to Llinos, for writing that chapter while I (Kookaburra) was out with a migraine. Let's give her a big round of applause! 


	20. Protected

Moria's Revenge, chapter 20: Protected  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, or various other sundry things in this story, and make no latinum from this.  
  
Claimer: Please leave mithril in 3rd cubicle from left, Ladies Room, Victoria Station. Thanks Llinos  
  
***  
  
After Haldir's hand was bound, the wounded elves were tended and the orc bodies disposed of, the host set off along the green-golden paths. Haldir told them they would have to camp for the night, as the Golden Wood was still a good distance away.  
  
The elves stopped at a cluster of smooth barked grey mallorn trees and Haldir whistled softly like a birdcall. From five of the trees sliver grey silken ladders unrolled from above as if by magic.  
  
"We will take our rest tonight here." Haldir announced. "You must climb up the ladder to the flet. There you will sleep as safely as it is possible to in these woods.  
  
"That looks awful high." Sam muttered. Like most hobbits he did not like heights and he especially did not hold with climbing trees. His gaffer always said no good could come of it - for hobbits to go climbing up off the ground, not with their big feet.  
  
"I think it would be difficult to carry the little one up there." Aragorn pointed out, "and he certainly cannot climb on his own."  
  
"What about Icicle?" Gimli asked putting his hand on the warg's head, "Must she remain on the ground?"  
  
"Indeed she must." Haldir frowned. "We are not accustomed to inviting wargs to share our sanctuaries."  
  
"Then I shall remain beside her." Gimli stated, his arms crossed and his axe clamped firmly to his chest.  
  
"As you wish." Haldir obviously cared little if the dwarf or the warg survived the night.  
  
"I too shall remain," Legolas said very quietly. "But I think we should try and take the little one up, for safety's sake."  
  
"We can make a harness of rope and haul him up." Haldir suggested. "It should not cause him any harm, the rope is gentle but strong."  
  
Aragorn was unsure about this, but weighed that Pippin would probably be safer on the flet than the ground. The elves very quickly fashioned a harness that would strap around Pippin's upper arms, but Aragorn insisted it should support him from his waist at least. He pointed out that Pippin's arms had been recently dislocated and could well become so again with such treatment.  
  
The reinforced harness was adapted and Boromir laid Pippin down on the ropes and proceeded to bind him into the device.  
  
Pippin's eyes opened wide as he felt the pressure of ropes on him again and then Boromir lifted him upright, making him ready to be lifted up to the flet.  
  
****Flashback****  
  
Pippin's arms were lifted, and he was hung on a hook that dangled from the ceiling high above. The chain on the hook ran up to a pulley, then back down to a winch, where one of the uruks took up position and started to turn. Pippin was lifted into the air, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, his heart pounding in his chest.  
  
****Flashback ends****  
  
The rope tightened and Pippin felt himself being hauled up by the rope. 'No! No! No!' He screamed in terror.  
  
"Daro! Daro!" Legolas called urgently to the elves above. "Stop! Stop!"  
  
"It's all right Pippin." Aragorn was by his side at once. "We're only lifting you up to somewhere safe to sleep. You cannot fall, the ropes are secure. Look at me Pippin. It's all right, I promise. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master." Pippin whispered now in his cowed voice, for the moment more afraid of a beating than the rope.  
  
"All right, let them continue." Aragorn called up into the tree. "Am ad. Up again - gently."  
  
The rope tightened once more and Pippin was lifted higher than Boromir's head. His eyes still wide with terror looked down frantically, his legs kicking uselessly, and saw Umummmum looking up and whimpering. Master put his hand on her head. 'Why was this nightmare replaying in his head?' Pippin started to hyperventilate he knew what was coming.  
  
****Flashback****  
  
The orcs lifted him until he was about two man-lengths in the air. Pippin shut his eyes again, he was getting vertigo from being that high up, and there was nothing to prevent the orcs from dropping him to his death. Down below, Icefang looked up at him and whimpered. She turned to her master and nuzzled his hand.  
  
"Heh, heh, don' worry yerself, girl. We'll return yer pup to yer, though 'e might be a little damaged." The orc winching up Pippin paused and looked at the chief. The chief nodded. The orc flipped the catch on the chain releasing it. Pippin plummeted towards the ground.  
  
****Flashback ends****  
  
Pippin could not stop himself from crying out again. He feared reprisal, but he feared being dropped again far more. "Noooo! Help me! Please Master, don't drop me, I'll be good, please, please, please!" He sobbed. "No- huh ahuh ahuh." He could no longer cry out in words, his breathing was so distressed and intermingled with sobs, no words would come.  
  
"Stop, please stop." Merry caught hold of Aragorn's hand, looking up at him and then Pippin frantically. "It's too much for him."  
  
Aragorn agreed. He called up to the elves, "awartha- sen! abandon this!"  
  
The elves stopped pulling Pippin up at his cry but did not begin to lower him either. "Pedo aníra!" they called from above. "What do you want?"  
  
Pippin began to panic even more when he felt himself stop. He could no longer cry out, too great was his terror, but the others could see how afraid he was. Legolas jumped lightly onto the silver-grey ladder beside the harness and climbed quickly to Pippin's level and reached out with one hand to pull him tightly to him. As he enfolded the perian to his chest he could feel his rapid heartbeat and his short breaths. Pippin's eyes were squeezed tightly shut and he was whimpering with hysteria.  
  
Legolas took the rope ladder in his teeth to steady himself so that he could let go with his other hand. Balanced precariously like this he drew his knife and, still clutching Pippin tightly, cut through the harness rope with one quick slash. He was then able to lower Pippin into Aragorn's and Boromir's waiting arms.  
  
Once on the ground again, Aragorn rocked him patiently, whispering gentle words and promising not to lift him like that ever again. He was relieved once Pippin calmed enough to actually start to cry again.  
  
"That was the worst reaction, and the most unexpected, we've seen yet, I think." Boromir stood anxiously with Merry just next to Pippin and Aragorn. "What do you suppose caused that?"  
  
"I was foolish not to have anticipated it." Aragorn laid Pippin down on the ground, wrapped in a blanket and let Icicle take charge of him again. She licked Pippin desperately, pushing his head down to encourage him to nurse. But he was still too distraught. "That must have been how they dislocated his arms."  
  
"Oh poor, poor Pippin. We should never have done that to him!" Merry choked his tears back for a moment, but as soon as he looked at Pippin again he could no longer hold them.  
  
"So will you leave this one on the ground with the dwarf and the warg?" Haldir asked somewhat impatiently.  
  
"The other hobbits should climb up," Aragorn decided. "But I think the rest of us would rather stay on the ground with Pippin."  
  
"I'm not going up without Pippin!" Merry folded his arms defiantly as if daring Strider to try and make him.  
  
"Nor I!" Frodo declared standing next to Merry.  
  
"I'll stay with Mr Frodo." Sam knew where his duty lay.  
  
Aragorn sighed and leaned down to speak quietly to the hobbits. "Merry I will allow," he agreed, "but you Frodo, at least, must seek the protection of the talan and I think Sam should go with you. If we have to protect Pippin in the night it would be better if we do not have to worry about you as well."  
  
Frodo, as Ring-bearer, could see the logic of this and agreed to climb up with Sam. The others made a small camp a little way away from the mallorn trees, in a small dell that would be easy to defend and hard to see. They agreed that two would stand guard at all times, Merry being allowed to take his turn as well.  
  
***  
  
The following is mostly Tolkien:  
  
Frodo woke up with a feeling of immediate danger. He got up, crawled to the opening and peered down. Something was climbing slowly, and its breath came like a soft hissing through closed teeth. Frodo saw two pale eyes. They stopped and gazed upward, unwinking. Suddenly they turned away, and a shadowy figure slipped round the tree and vanished. He wondered if he should call out to alert the others on the ground. Just then the elf Orophin came behind him.  
  
"Gerin caul?" he asked. Frodo remembered that this elf did not speak much of the common tongue.  
  
"ûn dad mallorn" Frodo managed,  
  
The elf nodded in apparent understanding and quickly vanished down the rope ladder. He was gone for about half an hour and then returned, shaking his head in the negative. Whatever it was had obviously gone.  
  
The rest of the night passed without incident and the following day, the party resumed their journey, finally reaching the Golden Woods at nightfall.  
  
***  
  
When the Fellowship finally stood before the Lord and Lady of Lorien, Celeborn and Galadriel stood to greet them in the custom of the high elves. The Lord welcomed them in the elven tongue, but Lady Galadriel said no word, and only looked long on the small bundle in Boromir's arms, from which two wide, green eyes peeped fearfully.  
  
As Celeborn spoke with the travellers, and learned of the happenings in Moria, Galadriel contemplated the small being in the man's arms. It had the same darkness about it that her daughter possessed when she came out of the orc den. At the memory a pang of sorrow hit the Lady. This poor child, to have gone through that horror.  
  
A movement down at the Fellowships' feet drew the elves' attention. There were many gasps of horror as the warg stuck her head in on the meeting. For the first time Galadriel spoke.  
  
"Fear not the wolf. For I have seen all in the mirror. She is a nestraden naneth, a healing mother, sent by the Valar in a time of great need." Galadriel stepped off of the dais and approached Boromir. With a graceful motion, she drew the cover off of Pippin's face completely. She placed one hand on the tiny forehead. "Sleep dreamlessly, and for a few hours forget your troubles." Pippin went limp in Boromir's arms. Galadriel gently lifted the still form into her own embrace. Haldir's jaw was practically on the floor. Galadriel looked up and addressed the company again.  
  
"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Tonight, you shall sleep in peace, and this tithen gem perian will receive all the care we can give." As she turned and stepped away, a small noise drew her attention back again. Both the warg and another perian had followed her. The warg was obviously going with her adopted sell, but Galadriel wondered at the boldness of the little one. "Why do you follow me? We have set many comfortable beds on the ground for you and your companions. Would you not like to rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil?"  
  
The halfling lifted his dark brown eyes to her blue ones, and swallowed visibly. It must have cost the hobbit much courage to be so daring.  
  
"P-please, Milady," he stammered, "b-but Pippin is my c-cousin. An-and I need to take care of him. Please, may I stay with him? I promise not to get in the way." At this he hung his head and turned a deep scarlet.  
  
Galadriel smiled down at him. She could feel the love coming from this small one as if it was heat coming from the sun. The hurt being in her embrace would need every bit of it if he were to get through this trial.  
  
"Far be it from me to deny a kinsman and loving friend access to this tithen gem perian. Come with me."  
  
So Merry and Icicle were led off by the elves higher in the tree, while the rest of the Fellowship started down the long stair to the ground.  
  
***  
  
As Merry followed the elves, he stared at what he could see of his small cousin, which was only Pippin's curly mop of hair, and one of his feet, which had slipped out of the blanket. Merry winced when he saw the unmistakable vermin bites marring Pip's precious foot. He hoped that the elves would do something about that soon, it had to be most uncomfortable for Pippin.  
  
After climbing up and down a seemingly infinite amount of stairs, the Lady elf handed Pippin to another elf, and spoke to the new elf in their own tongue. Merry waited, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Icicle whined. At this the Lady turned to them and smiled again.  
  
"Do not fear; your kinsman will be well taken care of. Silael," here she indicated the male elf who now held Pippin, "is our Healer. You must go with him to the Healing Chamber and tell him of the hurts you have found." Icicle still looked dubious. Galadriel knelt down to the warg's level and placed a hand on her head. "Alachas naneth, neth ben post band." Icicle wagged her tail, then trotted over to the elf with Pippin.  
  
As the quartet walked off towards the Healing Chamber, Galadriel watched them go with sadness in her eyes. Then with effort she donned the mask of leadership, and turned away. She had a certain leader of the Galadhrim to deal with.  
  
***  
  
When they reached the Healing Chamber at last, Pippin was still sleeping soundly. For this Merry was thankful. He did not know what would happen if Pippin awoke in the hands of strangers.  
  
Silael laid Pippin gently in a very large bed with carved posts at each corner and a roof atop. There were curtains of heavy embroidered brocade around the bed and these had been drawn on three sides. The elf smiled at Merry's attempts to see Pippin on the high bed, the little perian's nose was just about level with the soft mattress. Without waiting for permission Silael lifted Merry up around his waist and sat him on a corner of the bed, furthest away from Pippin.  
  
The healer then spoke to another elf who nodded and left on some errand. In the meantime Silael turned to Merry. "I know a little of what ails your friend, but it would help if you tell me in more detail what has occurred."  
  
"Yes, Sir," Merry remembered with trepidation the catalogue of injuries described by Aragorn and blanched a little at the thought of having to repeat them in such detail to this stranger. "I will do my very best."  
  
At that moment the other elf returned with another. They both carried trays, one with a basin of water and cloths and the other with a flagon of wine, goblets and a plate of white cakes. They set them on a table beside the bed. Silael poured a goblet of wine for Merry and gave him a cake to go with it. Then damped one of the cloths and proceeded to gently wash Pippin's face, squeezing a few drops of water onto his lips. Pippin murmured in his sleep and Silael, satisfied it would not disturb him too much, instructed the other elves to carefully undress and wash the little one.  
  
"Very well," Silael began. "Tell me all that you know, starting with your names and ages and everything you know that happened."  
  
"My cousin's name," Merry indicated Pippin, "Is Peregrin Took, but we call him Pippin or Pip and he is 29 which means he won't be grown up for 4 years yet." Merry was watching Silael's face carefully and the elf nodded sagely. "I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck and I'm called Merry for short and I'm 37. Pippin and I are cousins in that my mother is Pippin's father's sister, although we are related in other ways too and we've been friends from the day he was born," Merry stated proudly.  
  
He had always felt that he and Pippin had a special bond from the moment his own mother had place the tiny new baby in his arms and said "Well Merry, meet your new cousin, I want you to take good care of him." Merry cringed a little remembering her words now.  
  
Merry took a deep breath and continued, "It was after we lost Gandalf, err Mithrandir, in the Mines of Moria that it happened. Pippin got kidnapped by orcs and they took him back into the mines."  
  
Silael seated on the bed by Merry was glancing at Pippin's naked body now, taking in the bruises and wheals and burn marks. "Yrch!" The elf shook his head "Orcs!" He waited for Merry to continue.  
  
"Aragorn explained to us what must have happened. They beat Pippin very badly and then they. they. forced him." Merry stopped in bewilderment. He did not have the words to describe what had happened without it sounding foul and crude.  
  
Silael put his hand on Merry's arm. "I understand what they did, you don't have to describe that."  
  
"They put a collar about his neck with spikes in it and dragged him about a lot." Merry remembered.  
  
Silael reached over and lightly touched the scars and bruises on Pippin's neck and nodded. "They put a horrid thing. it was metal with spikes. they put it in his mouth and strapped it about his head."  
  
One of the other elves that was now unwrapping the bindings from Pippin's legs, stopped and gently turned the hobbit's head towards Silael and traced the outline of the damage around the soft little mouth.  
  
"Aragorn also thinks they put things, something I don't know what, into his. his." Merry found this difficult but for Pippin's sake it had to be explained, "in his backside." The hobbit moved quickly on to the next horror. "They may have drugged him as well."  
  
Silael poured a little more wine into Merry's goblet and he took a bracing mouthful. "They burnt him with something metal and whipped him some more and. and. Aragorn thinks they did that to him again. that is they forced him. in his mouth as well as."  
  
"Yes I understand," Silael could see that these descriptions were torture for the shy perian.  
  
"We don't know how, but they dislocated his arms, too." Merry added. "I think that is all I know to tell you, but you had better ask Aragorn as well. He knows the names of things that are wrong with Pippin and he tried to make him eat a mushroom for them but poor Pip couldn't do it. And then just before we came and found him, th- they cut him across his tummy." Merry's voice nearly broke, by reciting the injuries he realised just how close he had come to losing his precious Pippin.  
  
"Speak no more now." Silael realised that he could have quizzed the ranger for most of this information, but he could see that this little one desperately needed to help his younger cousin. Making him talk a little about it would help them both to heal.  
  
"But there's something else that's very important," Merry added hastily. "Something that Aragorn thought only the elves could heal."  
  
"And what is that Merry?" Silael asked kindly.  
  
"His mind."  
  
*** Galadriel waited in her audience chamber for Haldir. The leader of the Galadhrim had grown rather haughty of late, a situation she had been remiss in not correcting. A knock sounded on the door.  
  
"Enter." Haldir stepped in and walked to her chair.  
  
"What does Milady wish of me?" Haldir asked. Galadriel allowed herself an inner smile. This would be most satisfying to all concerned.  
  
"I wanted to tell you that I am very impressed with how well you dealt with our guests. In reward for this, I am going to give you a rest from patrolling our borders, for you are surely deserving of one."  
  
Haldir lifted an eyebrow in suprise. "But, Milady, I am loathe to be idle, what is there for me to do here? For surely I would be more useful serving you on the borders?" He objected.  
  
"You will not be idle. I have an assignment for you, one that should be a welcome break from wearying patrols." Galadriel wondered just how long Haldir would take to discover what she was going to do. 'By the Valar, do I have to explain it to him in intricate detail?' At Haldir's quizzical look she continued.  
  
"You will be the personal guard and attendant to the halflings."  
  
Galadriel knew she would never forget the look on Haldir's face. His jaw worked up and down a few times, but no sound came out. 'He looks like a fish recently removed from water!' The Lady of Lórien knew she would have to finish this audience soon, else she would be unable to contain her laughter. Not many of her subject elves understood that their Lady had a mischievous side. Finally Haldir found his voice.  
  
"B-but, Milady, would not another elf be more suited to the task? Have I displeased you in my service on the borders that you bring me back here?"  
  
"Not at all, Haldir. This is an honour. The halflings hold the fate of our world in their hands, and their safety while they are here is in your's. I would not trust any other elf with this duty. Tend them well." And with that, Galadriel picked up a scroll that rested on a plinth beside her chair and began to read. The audience was over.  
  
****  
  
A/N: Thank you again to Llinos for co-authoring and beta-ing. She deserves many strips of latinum and her own moon.  
  
And special thanks to Melzerama and Llinos for reading my short story! 


	21. Counselled

Moria's Revenge, chapter 21: Counselled  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
***  
  
Merry watched as Silael and another elf finished bathing Pippin. They tutted over the vermin infesting his cousin's curls, but seemed to have no objection to Pippin sleeping on the wonderful bed. Silael then inspected the stitches on Pippin's mid section. After a few heartbeats he nodded sagely.  
  
"Your Dunedin is very skilled with the needle, Merry. I could not have done a better job myself. When this wound is healed, your cousin will bear no more than a small scar, and even that might fade in time." Despite the elf's words, Merry felt a little chill. He tucked his knees up to his chin and looked at Pippin in silence. Silael looked at Merry sideways.  
  
"You are troubled with something, something I have said?"  
  
Merry looked up at him. "Oh, no, Sir. I was just...thinking about something."  
  
"Whatever it is, it must be grave, for your face is darkened when you look at your young cousin."  
  
Merry toyed with the embroidery pattern on the bedspread. "It's nothing, really."  
  
"It is not 'nothing', young Merry." The elf sat down next to Merry so gently that the mattress hardly sank in. Silael drew Merry to his chest. "Now, little one, tell me of your thoughts, for I have been on middle earth for a few years more than you, and perhaps I can be of assistance in sorting out your musings."  
  
Taking a deep breath, Merry looked up at Silael. "I-it's just...the orcs that, that...used him, they have probably almost forgotten about him by now, b-but..." Merry's voice threatened to break, "Poor Pip will have to live with this the rest of his life! It's not fair!" Merry practically wailed. Getting his thoughts out seemed to cause something to break inside of him, and he sobbed into the Healer's tunic.  
  
Silael held the soggy perian for quite some time, murmuring comforting words into Merry's ear.  
  
When Merry eventually managed to stop sobbing Silael soaked a cloth in cool water from one of the basins and bathed the hobbit's sore red eyes. "Now then, no more crying Merry, at least not in front of Pippin. You have to be strong for him."  
  
"I know." Merry broke off with a little hiccup and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Silael handed him a towel.  
  
"There is one very important thing I want you to remember, Merry." Silael took the hobbit's hands in his and looked steadily into his eyes. "Pippin may have been used by those foul creatures, but in the end he triumphed over them."  
  
"How?" Merry looked at Silael in stunned amazement. "How can you say that? Look at him."  
  
"I look - and I see a living, breathing halfling." Silael said simply. "Pippin triumphed over all of them by surviving. In spite of all they did to him, he refused to die. I want you to keep reminding him of that fact. He survived and that is very brave and very important."  
  
"It is?" A glimmer of hope appeared on Merry's face.  
  
"Yes, Merry it is." Silael eyes were full of sincerity. "Full grown men would have been taxed to physically endure that which your little cousin has lived through. I am filled with wonder at the perian."  
  
"Oh then there is hope for him?" Even Merry's voice was a little lighter now. "That he will get better I mean?"  
  
"As long as we tell him how wonderful he is to have survived." Silael reinforced. "Especially you, Merry. Pippin is not a victim, he is a hero, and that's what you have to make him understand."  
  
"But he won't let me near him." Merry shook his head in despair. "Every time I'm near him he gets afraid and thinks I will do something to him."  
  
"And when something unpleasant but necessary is being done to him, until he understands it is for his own good, you must stay away." Silael agreed "But the rest of the time I want you to be with him as much as you can."  
  
"Really?" Merry was surprised by this turn of events, he had become so used to Strider shooing him away from Pippin all the time he was beginning to think he could never be close to his cousin again.  
  
"Do not attempt to touch him or do anything he doesn't want you to do." Silael warned. "Do not even speak if that upsets him. Don't get too close, where you are now is sufficient."  
  
"I will stay here as much as I can." Merry smiled at last. "Should I sleep here as well?"  
  
"Yes, as long as you are sure you won't disturb him." Silael stood up and reached over to stroke Pippin's cheek gently with the back of his finger. The perian sniffed and twitched a little at the touch. "I must speak with the Dunedin now. I need to know more about his ailments and treatments. You will stay here and watch him Merry?"  
  
"Of course." Merry felt happier than he had since they had left Rivendell. His face lit up with a smile that nobody had seen since then. "I will watch until my eyes fall out!"  
  
Silael laughed, "Well I hope that will not be necessary. I will be back before then. Before I go, just repeat to me, what is the one important thing you have to remember?"  
  
Merry drew a deep breath and raised his eyes to the elf, meeting his gaze firmly. "That Pippin triumphed over them all because he survived and that was a very brave and important thing to do."  
  
"Well done, Merry." Silael patted his shoulder. "I think you are both going to be all right. Come, Naneth." He said to Icicle. To Merry's surprise the wolf jumped up and followed the elf out the door, only pausing for one last look at Pippin's still form on the bed.  
  
***  
  
Frodo glumly unpacked his luggage in the pavilion the elves had set up for the Fellowship. As he arranged each item, Sam silently picked it up and set it in a new (and more convenient place.) Frodo could not stop thinking about Pippin's cries when Aragorn was healing him, or the fear in his young kin's eyes. The Ring started to weigh heavily on its chain. 'Curse the thing. If it wasn't for the Ring, Pip could still be happy and free in the Shire. No, that's not true. If it wasn't for YOU, Master Baggins, he would be back in the Shire, Elrond did not want him to come, but oh, no, you were too selfish to...'  
  
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice interrupted Frodo's reverie. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
Frodo frowned in annoyance. "Nothing, Sam." he replied distractedly.  
  
Sam smiled to himself. Frodo was taking out every pair of under-breeches he had in his pack and was folding and refolding them. "You are not thinking about exactly how many clean pairs of unmentionables you have, I know that, Mr. Frodo."  
  
Frodo blinked and his eyes focussed on the underwear covered bed in front of him. "Oh, I uh, I was, um..." Frodo fumbled for a response.  
  
Boromir stood quietly just inside the tent's entrance, watching the two hobbits sadly. It was very hard on Frodo, especially to be separated from young Pippin, he knew. It ground on the Gondorians heart to see such usually merry beings so morose. Boromir cleared his throat and stepped into the tent. Both hobbits looked up at him.  
  
"Hullo, Mr. Boromir." greeted Sam.  
  
Boromir smiled back at him and seated himself in the middle of one of the large, soft couches. "How are you both now?"  
  
Frodo shrugged, somewhat lost for words. The automatic 'very well' greeting just seemed inappropriate. "I don't know - how are you?"  
  
"Lonely," Boromir admitted. "I find it difficult to chat to elves."  
  
"Legolas is all right isn't he?" Frodo came to sit on the couch next to him.  
  
"Yes of course," Boromir smiled. "But he doesn't really know how to make small talk."  
  
"Well seems to me neither do big men, from what I've seen." Sam said almost absentmindedly.  
  
"Sam!" Frodo nodded towards Boromir with a slight frown that the man was not supposed to see.  
  
"Begging your pardon and all Mr. Boromir," Sam added hastily, "it's just that, I never really talked. that is. I mean."  
  
"What he's trying to say." Frodo interrupted with a broad smile, "is that we've never heard you men tell long tales like hobbits do. I suppose you don't have much time for tale-telling in Gondor."  
  
"Well, we do have stories," he frowned a little trying to think of one.  
  
'Tell them a funny story, something to cheer them up.' Boromir thought and then rummaged around in his memories of his childhood in Minas Tirith for something suitable.  
  
The selection was thin, as maturing under the threat of the Shadow left little time for play and merriment as Sam had suggested. He then recalled a memory that might be worth telling. 'No, I can't tell them THAT story, they will never again respect me. And will it not make them grieve more, as Mithrandir had a part to play. But it will help them remember him as he was in life. Oh, if it makes them laugh it will be worth it.'  
  
"Very well," Boromir patted the couch on his other side, "Come on Sam, sit here and I'll tell you a story of Minas Tirith."  
  
Sam pattered over with a big smile and sat were indicated, both he and Frodo wriggled to get comfortable and then waited expectantly, all hobbits loved long tales.  
  
"One day long ago, some ambassadors from the far south came to Minas Tirith for negotiations with my father. Gandalf was also present in the White City at this time."  
  
"What kind of negotiations, Mr. Boromir?" asked Sam.  
  
"I do not remember. It is not important to the tale, little one. As the discussions were likely to last some time, the emissaries brought with them entourages." At the hobbits confused looks, he clarified, "Households. Among them were many boys of an age to be companions for my brother and me. It was several weeks into the negotiations that my story takes place.  
  
On this particular day, it was raining incredibly hard. Some of the young lords and my younger brother Faramir and I had taken to spending quite a bit of time with each other. This was well and good when the outdoors were open to us, and we could release our youthful, ahem, exuberance."  
  
Frodo grinned up at Boromir. The thought of the stern warrior ever having "youthful exuberance" was an amusing one. Boromir continued: "We were incredibly bored, as, there was nothing to do inside except for talk, and none of us was old enough yet to have learned the art of stimulating conversation. As a result, eventually the talk degenerated into an argument as to which nation had better riders. Faramir and I were game for the disagreement, as it was raining and we assumed that neither side would have an opportunity to prove itself correct. Doubtless that was what the other boys thought as well.  
  
Unfortunately, to illustrate his point, one of the young men from the south brought up the example of riding in the rain. He suggested that we of Gondor were not as advanced as them, as we had no indoor riding rings for inclement weather."  
  
Sam looked at Boromir wide-eyed. "INDOOR riding rings? But how...?"  
  
"It is simply a large flat area, filled with dirt or other footing and covered. I have seen them with nothing more than tent canvas to grand brick halls. Of course, my brother and I could not let that statement stand. I came up with what I then thought a brilliant idea. I sent a page to the stables and asked that all of our personal horses be made ready, then as a troop, all of us went down to one of the reception halls on the ground floor. This particular hall was ideal, for it had an immense rug that was about sixty by one hundred and eighty cubits, and was nailed down. There were also many chairs, tables and sofas."  
  
"Oh, no, Boromir...you didn't..." Frodo breathed.  
  
"Oh, yes. We did. While the grooms were readying our mounts, we arranged the pieces of furniture into a decent leaping course."  
  
By this time both hobbits were shaking with suppressed laughter. Boromir took this as a good sign. "I still remember the look on the head groom's face when we grabbed the horses and took them inside the palace. He must have thought we were crazy. Which would have been quite accurate actually.  
  
The course itself rode rather well, and all of the boys made it around easily, but by that time we were having too much fun to remember that we were supposed to be judging comparative horsemanship. Our laughter attracted some of the young ladies of the court, and several of them sent for their steeds, and some just watched. They actually helped us change the course around a couple times as well.  
  
Faramir was in the middle of his second go-round, when suddenly; from the doorway, 'WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S SACRED DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!' rang out. I can still remember the way that everything stopped dead. Mithran- sorry, Gandalf stood in the doorway.  
  
I was hard put to think up an answer, as it was quite obvious to anyone who had the sense the Valar gave gravel exactly what we were doing. For the first time, I really looked around the hall. The rug was ruined beyond repair, and the floor in that room was wood, so much of that would have to be replaced. Several pieces of furniture had chunks missing where horses had kicked them. Finally Gandalf spoke again. 'You do realize that this room is damaged permanently and many things will have to be replaced.' We all nodded dumbly. The full weight of my idiocy was only just beginning to occur to me. Gandalf sighed. 'But your father will be out of council for several more hours. He will not learn of this from me on one condition. That I get to ride too! Now where's a blasted groom...' so he sent for his horse, and we all made the most of what were likely to be our last hours on Middle-Earth. The depressing thing is, that the old man could out-ride any of us. He had the servants set furniture so that it was much higher than any of us would dare, and by Elbereth, he rode his horse over it!"  
  
Frodo and Sam were doubled up in hysterics, tears running down their cheeks. "I wish," gasped Frodo, "I could have seen that! Oh my, Gandalf in his robes and that ridiculous hat! Jumping...hee hee...jumping over furniture!"  
  
"I think Gandalf truly meant to take his leave of us before my father came out of council, but he did not. It was actually Faramir who noticed our father standing in the doorway, with a look of horror upon his face. I am afraid I do not remember much of what he screamed at us, but I do remember wondering if I would live to see the morrow. Also I recall, the endless hours of cleaning the stables for a month afterwards and hauling water buckets, as well as not being allowed personal groomsmen until I reached my twentieth year. I have a feeling that that incident was what really made my father doubt Mithrandir's council ever after."  
  
Boromir looked down at the two halflings, who were now practically rolling on the floor in helpless mirth.  
  
****  
  
Haldir braced himself. He was outside of the pavilion set up for the halflings. From inside came sounds of happy chattering. 'How can just two of the little blighters make so much noise?' He thought. Taking another deep breath, he decided to work out a strategy for 'stewarding' the halflings. Perhaps if he did an exemplary job, Galadriel would take him from this torture and send him back to the border. Yes, that was it. He would see to it that the whole Fellowship wanted for nothing, and that the hobbits would not suffer so much as a scrape while in Lórien. Haldir pushed open the tent flap.  
  
Boromir looked up to see who had entered, and stiffened at the sight of the elf who had treated them with such hostility.  
  
"Greetings and salutations. Haldir, I believe it was?" At the elf's nod, Boromir asked. "And what brings you to our humble abode this evening, Master Haldir?"  
  
"I am here to make certain that you find your lodgings comfortable. And to see if there is anything else you would like." Haldir strained to keep his voice from reflecting his outrage at being made to dote on the travellers.  
  
Boromir considered what would likely do the most good for Frodo and Sam. "Could you possibly acquire some nourishment, and then take us to visit Peregrin?"  
  
Frodo gasped. "Oh, Boromir! Could we really see him?"  
  
Haldir nodded stiffly. I will see what I can do." He turned and left.  
  
****  
  
"Aragorn!" Silael knew the ranger from before. In the past the healer had many times visited Rivendell to consult with Lord Elrond and remembered his adopted son as an apt pupil. "I need to consult with you."  
  
"Of course," Aragorn stood up from the table where he, Legolas and Gimli were seated at their evening meal. Icicle went immediately for the bowl Gimli placed on the ground, filled with choice morsels. "Will you join us? Or would you prefer to walk?"  
  
"No I shall join you," Silael sat between Aragorn's place and Legolas, "although I fear my conversation may not be a suitable dining diversion."  
  
"That's all right," Aragorn sat down again as the others nodded their assent, "we understand. You obviously need to discuss Pippin."  
  
"And his companion, Merry," Silael could feel the other perian was suffering on behalf of his injured cousin. "Although I agree with your approach that the injuries must be mended first. Nevertheless, I feel the time has come for some psychological healing and I think that Merry can be the driving force behind this - Pippin's and his own."  
  
"I have endeavoured to keep them distant," Aragorn explained, "I was chiefly concerned with keeping Pippin alive, which necessitated hurting him further."  
  
"I understand," Silael smiled fondly at his former pupil. "and very wise you were, too. But now the time has come to reunite them and let Pippin know he is the victor and not the victim."  
  
"How so, Sir Healer?" Gimli was not sure that the little one would be able to cope with this strange idea. "He has not truly been avenged of those filthy creatures yet."  
  
"Oh but he has, Master Dwarf," Silael turned to the frowning Gimli with a slight flash of something, not anger - determination. "It will not take an axe to beat those creatures into submission. The perian has the true victory, they failed for he will remain pure in heart and thought, no orc can take that from him, I am certain."  
  
"He has a very low opinion of himself at the moment." Gimli put in, "he thinks he is no better than an orc's dog or whore."  
  
"Well we will soon change that view." Silael said firmly. "Trust me my friends, I have not yet spoken with the small perian, he is still sleeping, but I feel his mind and that of his cousin. There is a deep innocence and purity there, such as I have seldom encountered in elf or dwarf or man, it is that which will be his salvation."  
  
"Silael, you are truly a great healer," Aragorn bowed his head to the elf, "and I trust that your words will become truth before long."  
  
"Now you must explain to me in detail Aragorn all the physical hurts that I need to deal with." Silael poured himself a goblet of wine from the jug on the table. "  
  
****  
  
Haldir accompanied Frodo, Sam and Boromir to the Healing Chamber. "I do not know whether you will be admitted," The elf remarked trying not to sound too haughty, "They may not want you to see your companion yet."  
  
"Well they will let us know how he is at least." Frodo looked expectantly up at the tall elf, waiting for him to request admittance for them.  
  
"Very well." Haldir struck the small gong beside the entrance. An elf dressed all in white came to the door. "These travellers." Haldir indicated the man and the two hobbits, "wish to see the injured perian. Is he able to receive them?"  
  
"He still sleeps," said the elf in white in a whisper. "But they are welcome to come and look at him. Also his cousin is sitting with him and may be glad of company."  
  
The three were ushered into the inner room where Pippin lay, with Haldir following in attendance. Merry looked up as they entered and put his finger to his lips, warning them not to wake Pippin. They came over to the big bed and, like Merry, Sam and Frodo could hardly see over the top, so tall was it. Boromir lifted them both up to sit by Merry.  
  
"How is he?" Frodo whispered. "Has he woken at all?"  
  
"He stirred a little earlier on," Merry bent his head close to his older cousin to avoid too much noise, "but he went straight back to sleep. It's the longest he's been asleep since. since."  
  
"We know, Merry." Frodo laid his hand on Merry's shoulder comfortingly. "He does look a lot more peaceful."  
  
"That is the blessed enchantment of the Lady Galadriel." Haldir spoke unexpectedly. The hobbits and Boromir all turned to look at him in surprise. "The perian was fortunate to receive her care."  
  
"And why should he not?" Boromir asked through gritted teeth. "He has committed no crime."  
  
"As you say." Haldir deferred not willing to get into an argument with the warrior.  
  
Whether it was the hushed talking or the proximity of the others that disturbed him they could not tell, but Pippin stirred again now and blearily opened his eyes. The healer elf dressed in white was at his side in a heartbeat. He took Pippin's hand and soothed his forehead.  
  
But Pippin would not be soothed. He looked wildly around and flew back into his accustomed realm of panic and dread. Trying to escape the touch and cringing away from the white clad elf in terror. But the elf held his hand and would not let him move away, holding him firmly in place with his other hand now, keeping him pinned down on the bed.  
  
"Does he normally struggle so?" The elf asked whilst never taking his eyes off his struggling patient.  
  
"Yes," Merry whispered. "Often he does, usually Aragorn can stop him or Boromir." Merry nodded towards the Gondorian.  
  
"But only by force," Boromir confessed. "It does not truly calm him. "We fear he may hurt himself."  
  
"Come now then and hold him." The elf suggested. "I do not wish to introduce a new terror into his life, he is already familiar with you."  
  
Boromir came to Pippin's side of the bed and lifted the struggling hobbit into his arms. "It's all right Pippin. Don't be afraid, I've got you safely now, lie still little one, please." Pippin eventually quieted under the familiar tone of Boromir's voice, although he continued to look fearfully around him even when he was laid back on the bed again.  
  
"As you have come," the healer turned to the others now, perhaps you could help me to do something to help the little one."  
  
"Of course," said Frodo, "Anything we can."  
  
"Silael instructed that as soon as he woke I must send young Master Merry away," the elf lifted Merry down from the bed with an apologetic look, "as I need to begin de-lousing the little one."  
  
****  
  
It took a long time for Aragorn to describe all of Pippin's ills, not just his physical injuries but also the venereal disease and the psychological trauma. The ranger even described details of Pippin's infestation and what he thought was the best form of treatment.  
  
"And what of you my friend?" The elven healer asked Aragorn. "You are sore in body and heart. I would ask that you take your rest now and let us tend to the little one. He will want for nothing."  
  
"Silael is wise in his assessment." Legolas looked warily at his friend. "You must release Pippin to their care now, or the strain will take its toll of you also."  
  
"I thank you for your care." Aragorn did now breathe a sigh of relief. "I will not deny that it has been a burden and a worry, but one that I would gladly carry if only to see the little one survive and be well again. I feel it was my fault that this happened to him in the first place and, of course, I was responsible for his care in any case."  
  
"There is no purpose or gain in regretting the past," Silael said wisely. "You treated him with great skill and care, it is also because of you that he survived." Silael looked at the other two, "because of all of you. The perian is fortunate to have such friends."  
  
"Please let us know what we can do to help," Legolas added. "Anything to make him whole again, if it is in my power, I will give."  
  
"Aye," Gimli nodded. "I too will do whatever I am able - just ask it."  
  
"You mentioned a scarf, Aragorn." Silael said, "Do you still have it?"  
  
Aragorn took the tattered, stained garment from his jerkin. "I was going to try and repair it, but I do not have the skill."  
  
Silael took it from him, "I will wash it. The tears will be mended, perhaps it should be reknit, but it will help I think. You say Aragorn that he has only been nourished by the warg?"  
  
"Yes, I did not try to feed him anything else," Aragorn explained. "I believe that fasting will help to purge his system to cure the syphilis."  
  
"And you still have the mushrooms to treat the disease?"  
  
"Samwise put them with the other supplies," The ranger told him.  
  
The healer then turned to Legolas and Gimli. "The first request for help I make from you both may seem a little strange," Silael smiled a little. "Could you milk the warg for me? I need the blessed mother's milk help the perian to take the mushroom."  
  
****  
  
TBC  
  
To anyone who is reading this:  
  
This story is the repost of the NC-17 fic "Moria's Revenge". If you wish to read the whole original NC-17 version (chapters 5 and 7 are more graphic, that's all that's been changed) click on the link below, or cut and paste it into your browser. It is still a work in progress, and I am reuploading the chapters to ff.net as fast as I can. The chapters go up through 31 so far, and 32 is on its way soon (hopefully).  
  
http://www.nindaiwe.com/cgi- bin/stories/display.cgi?id=515&sort=date&cat=11 


	22. Cleansed

Moria's Revenge, chapter 22: Cleansed  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
Disclaimer: *Beating off hordes of lawyers* "NO! I swear! It's not mine! Hey, no biting...!"  
  
****  
  
Deilen, the elf clad in white, ushered Merry from the room and then tentatively took Pippin's hands and sat him up. He did not struggle this time, but looked around in confusion, wondering where he was. His body still hurt all over and certain pains such as the burns on his buttocks and sides had become more acute as fluid built up inside the skin, some of the blisters breaking.  
  
"Pippin?" The elf said gently, "My name is Deilen, can you stand on your feet do you think?"  
  
Pippin shook his head in a worried fashion; he was not too sure what this new person wanted from him. He seemed quite kind and gentle, but looks could be deceiving. Pippin was not ready to trust anyone yet, especially a stranger. He looked down at his body and saw that he had been dressed in something different, a white robe of some sort, it was shiny and smooth, and felt pleasant against his bruised and torn skin.  
  
"Come Pippin, my name is Melystra," Pippin saw now that Deilen had been joined by someone else also clad in white. The voice was softer still and she had long flowing golden hair. "Take my hand and I will help you to rise up." Pippin looked at the hand that reached out to him. It was white and pretty and was offered palm upwards, the delicate fingers curling in slightly in a beckoning, reassuring manner. Pippin took the hand.  
  
"That's good." the voice tinkled like a silver bell, not mocking but happy, as if him touching her was the sweetest thing that had ever happened. "Let me lift you down now, put your arms around my neck." Pippin pulled back at that and took his hand away, still fearful and in too much pain to welcome any embrace.  
  
"It's all right, little one." Melystra whispered mellifluously. "Take my hand and Deilen's hand and we will help you down together. It's quite safe, I know you've been afraid, but you have to come out now."  
  
Very carefully the two elves offered a hand each to Pippin and slowly, slowly, like a nervous dog, that wants the food, but is afraid of a cuff, Pippin reached out and tipped a finger to each hand. Gently they took his hands and then his arms and lifted him down from the tall bed and stood him precariously on his feet, the long silken robe touching the ground. Pippin had not actually walked since he had been rescued and this alone, aside from his injuries, made him very wobbly. He was also bent over awkwardly, as he essentially had several inches less of skin over his stomach as a result of the stitches. The elves did not release his hands as they could see he would have fallen at once, but they carefully walked him along supporting him under his arms, as if teaching a babe to toddle and sat him in a richly padded chair.  
  
This was a new position for Pippin and he looked around him to see what would happen next. The padding was a great comfort, however, he still felt shooting pains as pressure was put on his abused posterior. He saw Frodo and Sam just behind the two elves and Boromir behind the hobbits. "What do you want?" He whimpered nervously. "Are you making me better again?"  
  
"It's nothing to fear Pippin." Deilen spoke now. "We're going to trim your hair a little, so we can get rid of the lice."  
  
"No please don't trim me! No please! I'll try to be better." Pippin was not really sure what they were going to do to him, but he could see the others, Frodo and Sam under the direction of the lady elf, Melystra readying some frightening equipment. He saw something metal flash in the light and his mind spun back to the rock in the forest  
  
***Flashback***  
  
Lugsta drew a long serrated knife and advanced towards Pippin. The knife glinted in the starlight and Pippin whimpered around the gag and squeezed his eyes shut. Lugsta placed it against Pippin's midsection, and Crugsyl held him down.  
  
At the touch of the cold steel, Pippin froze. 'I'm going to die.' He thought. He wished he could have seen Merry again, just once. But no, it was better this way, Merry should not be defiled by a filthy slut like him. A single tear escaped from the corner of his eye, and traced his hairline, before dripping into his ear, and becoming a mild, tickling annoyance. 'I hope this doesn't hurt too much.'  
  
Lugsta pressed the knife into the pearly skin of Pippin's stomach and sliced.  
  
Pippin screamed in agony as he felt his skin part to the vicious blade.  
  
***End of Flashback***  
  
Pippin screamed in agony as he remembered the serrated knife cutting into his flesh and the unbelievable pain and the sight of his own blood pouring from his stomach. "Please no, no, please Master, please don't, please!"  
  
"Pippin quiet, don't fret so, be at peace." Melystra's voice cut through his panic. "Only your hair. Open your eyes and look at me."  
  
Pippin trembled but obeyed and peeped out at the elf who was smiling so sweetly at him. Pippin did not know if that was good or bad. Was she smiling at him or to him? She spoke again, but to someone else. Turning away she addressed Sam. "Samwise do you know how to cut hair?"  
  
"I've cut my brothers' hair afore now. Not sure I made such a good job though, 'tain't like trimming the hedge exactly, begging your pardon Ma'am."  
  
"That's all right, Master Gardener," Melystra picked up the small shears from the table and handed them to Sam. "Cut a little of my hair so that Pippin can see that it will not hurt him."  
  
"What! I- I couldn't Milady, I might do something terrible!" Sam looked at Frodo in utter panic. Frodo just shrugged unhelpfully, secretly a little amused at poor Sam's reaction.  
  
"Sam, I will not hold any blame to you," Melystra assured him, "and it is only hair, it will grow again whatever you may do. Just cut a little."  
  
Hands trembling, Sam took a few strands of the golden tresses in his left hand and, levelling the end off as he had been taught by his mother, snipped off the excess. He then held out the cut hair to Pippin to show him. "See Pip, it doesn't hurt, just cut a little off. It's all right."  
  
"May Sam cut your hair now?" Deilen asked him. "Or shall he cut a little of mine? Or of Frodo's?"  
  
Pippin shook his head, and then nodded his head. He was not sure what to make of this display at all. It seemed safe but the shears were frightening and why did he have to have his hair cut off anyway? Perhaps this was another punishment that he deserved. They were probably right. He was filthy, he had been with orcs, done terrible things with orcs, he should have his hair cut off as a warning to others. He'd heard a story once about a woman in Bree who was consorting with all sorts and the respectable villagers had cut her hair off and that was just for going with her own kind. This was probably to make him into the orc he was now, they did not have long curls, so it would not be right for him to have them.  
  
Meekly Pippin bowed his head in the chair and Sam patting him gently on the shoulder started to clip his hair off. As he watched each lock drop to the floor Pippin felt tears of shame well up and drop to ground with his pretty curls.  
  
From behind the door, Merry's tears fell in cadence with his small cousin's. He peeked through the crack between the door and jamb. As he saw Pippin's lovely, curly locks fall to the snip-snip of Sam's shears, he tried not to remember how Pippin's hair bounced when he ran or laughed. Merry tried to tell himself that hair grew back, and it would only be short temporarily. It did not make him feel better.  
  
While Sam was trimming Pippin's mop, Deilen was inspecting the curls that adorned his feet. The elf could see that there were many nits on the hair, and quite a few adult lice, which had been making a feast of the poor perian.  
  
"I am afraid we will have to completely shave little Pippin's feet. It is the only way I can see to get the parasites off." Frodo looked up at the elf.  
  
"But won't Pippin's feet get terribly cold? I know it's not so cold here, but I- I'm just worried about him getting a chill." Frodo stammered, he could not imagine his young cousin without the protection of furry feet.  
  
Melystra smiled down at him. "A valid concern, Frodo. I will go and see what I can find for Pippin. With his small body, keeping him warm will be a great concern." She turned and glided out of the door.  
  
Upon exiting the room, she bowled Merry over. "Oh, forgive me, young Merry. I hope I did not injure you." She said, helping Merry up off of the floor.  
  
"Oh. No, it's quite all right, Ma'am. I should not be here anyway, it's just..."  
  
"It's just that you love your cousin very much and you cannot stand to be away from him when he so desperately needs your love."  
  
Merry looked up at her, tears still brimming in his eyes and nodded dumbly. "Well, Melystra continued, "as long as you are up, you can help me find something to comfort poor Pippin's feet." She offered her hand to Merry and they started their descent to the ground.  
  
***  
  
When Sam finished with Pippin's trim, the floor around the chair was covered in the thick locks, and Pippin's face was covered with tears.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Pippin, please don't cry! I'm sorry I had to do this, but we need to get rid of the lice..." Sam wailed. It had cut his heart to feel the tiny trembling sobs from Pippin while Sam pruned the infested scalp. Although Pippin's hair was now a good deal shorter, it was by no means all gone. "Oh, Mister Deilen, please don't make me cut any more off! It's scaring Mister Pippin so!"  
  
Deilen sighed and lifted Pippin's face and looked at how much was left. Sam had done a very decent job, leaving about a finger length of hair all around. "This will have to do, I suppose. We will just have to be especially attentive to combing out the nits. Now, Boromir, do you have the experience to shave Pippin's feet? I," he said with a slight chuckle, "am not well practiced enough with a razor to be comfortable using it."  
  
Boromir laughed sheepishly and rubbed his slightly shaggy beard. " I am afraid I have not been practicing as much as I should have lately. But I do have some skill in it."  
  
"Oh, Boromir, don't be so modest!" Frodo piped up. "The first week we were on the road, he shaved with his sword. To show off I think, but we were all very impressed."  
  
"Oh, but I really liked Mister Strider trying to shave with Gimli's axe. It was a very valiant attempt, at least," said Sam.  
  
"And he probably would have succeeded if Gimli had not discovered it!" laughed Frodo. I can still remember him chasing Aragorn up the tree!"  
  
Boromir sighed. "All right, I will do it. But, do you have a basin and some lathering soap? I would hate to nick Pippin."  
  
Deilen sent for both, and when the attendants had brought them, they also took the soiled bedding out, and replaced it with clean sheets and blankets.  
  
Pippin watched fearfully as the steaming basin was placed beneath his feet, and Boromir checked the blade. The shining metal reminded him again of the orc blade, and he shut his eyes tightly. When strong hands began to rub and bathe his feet, he only jumped slightly.  
  
Boromir concentrated on the task in front of him. As he lathered Pippin's feet, he could not help but wonder at them. The soles were incredibly thick, and the fur on top was luxurious. It would be hard for him to shave it off, but he hoped it would grow back. He carefully cleaned between Pippin's toes, and up his ankles. In order to get at all of the hair, he gently lifted the hem of the long shirt and draped it over Pippin's knees. The hair petered out at Pippin's upper calf, so it was to here that Boromir soaped. "What would father say if he saw me now, washing a halfling's feet, and not only that, actually being glad to!'  
  
As he prepared to begin the shave, he glanced up at Pippin to see how the perian was faring. Pippin's eyes were shut incredibly tight, but at least he was not becoming hysterical. With the first stroke that changed. Pippin's eyes flew open and he began to jerk and flail. Boromir quickly backed away, not wanting to risk cutting Pippin. Frodo and Sam were at Pippin's head, soothing him and telling him that no one was going to hurt him; it was just a little shave.  
  
Deilen strode quickly over to them with what looked suspiciously like a bottle. "Here, let me give him this."  
  
"What is it?" asked Frodo suspiciously.  
  
"Simply a sedative. It will render him unconscious for an hour. Enough time for him to be deloused." Deilen lifted Pippin and cradled him in his lap in one motion. Pippin was hyperventilating and looking at him with fearful eyes. "Shh, little one, drink this. It will help you go to sleep."  
  
****  
  
Melystra and Merry walked hand in hand down the long staircase. The hobbit was glad of the touch as he found the height of the stairs rather disturbing. They found Silael still with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli.  
  
"Merry?" Silael greeted. "Is Pippin awake yet?"  
  
"Yes," Merry nodded. "They cut his hair off."  
  
"Oh the delousing." Silael turned to the others I think you may all have to undergo that treatment, he looked at Gimli in particular, "including the shearing of hair growth."  
  
"Not my beard!" Gimli growled. "A dwarf never cuts his beard."  
  
"Well let us hope it won't come to that." Silael had enough to deal with at the moment. "If you have not cradled the little one you may be clear, but you should still use the preparation and have your beard and hair combed thoroughly.  
  
"And what of Legolas?" Gimli pouted. "Would you ask him to shear his hair off?"  
  
"No, elves are resistant to such infestation." Silael informed him. "Lice will not dwell on the body of an elf, although the men and the hobbits are certainly at risk. Also the warg must be treated urgently. I suspect she is the origin of the lice."  
  
"I have brought some of the preparation for you to use." Melystra took a jar from a small bag at her side. "It is a mixture of turmeric and pyrethrum. You must comb it into the hair and then leave it for several hours and then wash it out and comb the hair thoroughly again."  
  
"I think it would be best for you help each other with this task." Silael suggested.  
  
"The little perian, Pippin has to have his feet shaved." Melystra turned to Silael now. "Merry is concerned he will be too cold without the fur for protection.  
  
"I can help there." Aragorn put in. "I have woollen stockings that are thick and warm, more protection than elf or hobbit would ever need for their feet. I will fetch them."  
  
"Also there is this." Silael showed Melystra the woollen scarf. "It belongs to Pippin and he kept hold of it throughout his ordeal. I think it might provide a good focus for him now, especially if it is repaired."  
  
"Indeed," Melystra smiled knowingly at the other elf. "It will be a great help. I shall wash and re-knit it at once."  
  
"Excuse me!" Merry asked nervously. "I don't understand. Why will the scarf help him? Won't it just remind him of what happened?"  
  
"Yes, but he does not forget that in any case at the moment Merry," Melystra explained. "But the scarf must have been important to him, he kept hold of it throughout everything and it was damaged just as he was." Melystra turned the wrecked garment over in her hands, observing and memorising the pattern. "If he sees that the scarf can be mended then perhaps he will understand that he can be mended too."  
  
****  
  
Gimli and Legolas set about their given task of trying to milk Icicle. They took her for a walk first to make her as tired as possible, although this seemed an impossible task. Then Legolas sat and carefully combed the de- lousing preparation into her coat. She did not like this but bore it patiently, only growling at the elf occasionally when he snagged her fur with the fine-toothed comb.  
  
Then while Gimli held her collar and offered her some choice pieces of meat, Legolas stood her firmly on the ground and attempted to milk her over a small bowl. But the warg was not prepared to give up her cub's milk and sat firmly down, even refusing the meat.  
  
Legolas sat in front of her, holding her fine head in his hands and sent out his tendril of mind touch. He felt the contact and then showed her Pippin suckling. Then he made the picture change and showed Pippin drinking from a bottle.  
  
She did not understand this and reverted to the first picture. Legolas then showed two pictures in quick succession, the first of him milking her, the second of Pippin lapping the milk from the bowl they were using as if he were a pup. The elf hoped this would make more sense to the warg. Icicle was having none of it and stubbornly sent back the first picture again.  
  
Legolas withdrew with a sigh. "She won't accept it," he told Gimli, "she insists that she must nurse Pippin. I tried to show him drinking her milk from this bowl, but she obviously doesn't think it's time for him to be weaned yet."  
  
"Maybe she would be more co-operative if she thought one of the other hobbits wanted the milk?" Gimli suggested.  
  
"It's worth asking." Legolas agreed. He took Icicle's head once more and showed her Merry. She agreed, Merry. Then he showed her Merry nursing from her as Pippin did. This was a little more perplexing, but eventually she accepted the image, although she showed Legolas an image of Pippin and Merry nursing together. Legolas patiently sent back a slightly altered view of Pippin sleeping and Merry nursing. This took a few moments to filter back, but she eventually agreed it was an acceptable image. Then Legolas took a step further and showed her Merry milking her into the bowl and then feeding the milk to Pippin. She reverted to Merry nursing and Pippin sleeping. Legolas persisted. He sent Merry nursing and then expressing her milk. Next he showed Pippin crouched beside her and lapping the milk from the bowl.  
  
Legolas waited. He looked into the intelligent eyes as she examined this complicated rush of information, but finally she sent back an agreement of the image he had sent. She would give Merry milk as long as it was for her cub.  
  
"That's good," Legolas turned to Gimli with a sigh of relief. "You were right, she'll let Merry have the milk."  
  
****  
  
Merry was sitting by Melystra watching her re-knit the washed wool back into Pippin's scarf. She had carefully unravelled the whole thing, before washing and it letting it dry. Then Merry had held the wool for her as she skeined it around his outstretched hands so that she could wind it into balls. Now her fingers almost seemed to fly as she clicked the needles to and fro remaking the scarf into its original pattern.  
  
"Merry, we need your help," Legolas greeted the pair. "You have to come and help us to milk Icicle."  
  
"Me?" Merry asked with surprise. "What can I do?"  
  
"She won't give us her milk." Legolas explained. "But she will let you have some and we need it for Pippin."  
  
"Can't he just suckle as he usually does." Merry had not been there when Silael explained why they needed the milk. "Why do you need to milk her?"  
  
"It is so that Silael can feed Pippin the mushroom." Gimli explained. "He's going to mix it in with the milk."  
  
"Oh," Merry said getting up to go with them. "Show me what I must do then."  
  
As Merry approached the warg she wagged her tail, but as soon as Legolas took her collar and stood her up so that the hobbit could milk her, she sat firmly down again and no amount of coaxing would make her stand.  
  
"Try to roll her on her side," suggested Gimli. That's how she is used to giving milk. After all, she's not a milchcow, so it would seem strange to her to stand."  
  
"Gimli's is right," Legolas agreed, "and Merry you probably need to nestle into her a bit, maybe even if you suckled on her first?"  
  
Merry's eyes grew wide and his jaw hung open, "I-I don't think I c-could do that, I mean. it's." He trailed off as he realised the implications of what he was saying. "but if it's for Pippin, I suppose." Merry heaved a sigh. There was nothing he would not do and nothing he would not give to see Pippin well again, so if that included nursing on a warg then that's what he must do.  
  
He took the bowl in one hand and crouched down on all fours and snuggled up into Icicle the way he had seen Pippin do. Then he buried his head into the fur on her belly and found the nipple with his mouth. Icicle was perfectly happy with this arrangement and pushed his head in further with her muzzle, licking the back of his neck encouragingly. After he had taken a few mouthfuls of the warg's milk, Merry surreptitiously moved his hand onto the nipple and replaced his lips with his fingers and slipped the bowl into place. This way he was able to express a good bowlful of milk without the mother even noticing what he was doing. When the bowl was full, Legolas, stroking Icicle with one hand removed the bowl with the other and Merry returned to sucking on her nipple for a while and then stopped as he snuggled into her belly and pretended to sleep. Icicle was quite content with the subterfuge and seemed happy to accept Merry as a substitute for her cub for the time being.  
  
After a decent interval, Gimli coaxed her away with a good dish of meat laced with herbs, so that Merry could escape her attentions and go back to Pippin.  
  
****  
  
NB: The names of the elves are Welsh words:-  
  
deilen means 'leaf' and Melystra means 'sweetness'. Silael actually means something in Sindarin, but I can't remember what, and the site with the dictionary I used is down, so I can't look it up. 


	23. Unburdened

Moria's Revenge, chapter 23: Unburdened  
  
Authors: Llinos and a bit of Kookaburra ;-)  
  
***  
  
As Deilen lifted him, Pippin felt a sense of well-being. Yet instantly he stiffened. He could still remember what had happened when he let down his guard in the chief's room, and how the huge hand had switched from gentle to abusive in heartbeats.  
  
The elf lifted the bottle to Pippin's lips. "Shh, little Pippin, this will make you feel sleepy. Do not fight it, dear heart." Deilen pushed the bottle into Pippin's mouth and squeezed it to expel some of the concoction.  
  
Pippin's comfort vanished. All he could think of were the last thing to be forced into his mouth, and that spurted liquid...but no! It had not happened! This was not happening! The little frame convulsed, and began to heave.  
  
"Quickly! The bucket!" cried Deilen, gesturing at a waste receptacle. Haldir was the closest and he dived for it, thrusting it at Deilen who got Pippin over it just in time. Frodo rubbed Pippin's back in circles, speaking in a soothing voice, as heaves shook Pippin's body.  
  
Haldir again attempted to keep a sneer of distaste from his features. It was a losing battle, so he decided a distraction was in order. "What do you suppose caused such a reaction?" he asked Boromir mildly.  
  
Boromir looked sideways at Haldir. He decided that this would be an excellent time to acquaint the elf with some of what had happened to Pippin. "I expect," he said quietly, so as not to be heard by the hobbits, "that it reminded him of the oral rape he was subjected to. I do not think he will be able to have anything in his mouth without reliving what the orcs put him through."  
  
Pippin was sobbing now and caught once again in his waking nightmare. He looked frantically round wondering where the next attack would come from.  
  
Deilen gently washed Pippin's face with a cloth soaked in cool water and spoke soothingly to him again. But he also held him with his other hand to stop the perian escaping his ministrations. "It may distress him somewhat," Deilen turned to the others, still holding Pippin's arm with a gentle grip, "but we must shave his feet and apply the de-lousing treatment. Haldir you will hold the little one still with me whilst Boromir shaves his feet."  
  
Haldir's eyebrows rose in horror, he had not planned on having to touch this one so intimately. "I do not think I would be the best one for this task." He protested, "perhaps one of the other periain?"  
  
"No," Deilen insisted. "They are likely to be infested with the lice themselves already. It is better they have as little physical contact as possible. You are not at risk. as you know elves cannot be host to lice."  
  
Haldir, his distaste showing in every movement, took hold of Pippin's other arm and, as indicated by Deilen held his leg still as well. Deilen took a firm grasp of Pippin's other side and nodded to Boromir to begin.  
  
Pippin writhed at first in their hold and his breath came in short gasps as Boromir lathered his feet again and scraped the first swathe through the fur. Then he looked down at what was being done to him and resigned himself, although large salty tears fell. Why did they have to cut his foot hair too? Pippin knew he probably deserved this punishment, but his feet would get cold and would look so ugly. Maybe if he pleaded with them?  
  
"I'm sorry Boromir," he whispered. "Sorry, sorry, please don't cut all my foot fur off, I'll try to be good, I didn't mean to be bad, please don't."  
  
"Oh Pippin." Boromir stopped shaving for a moment. "I'm not punishing you. You have lice and we have to get rid of them. They cling to your hair and that's why we're taking it off." Boromir frowned up at Deilen, wondering whether or not to continue. The elf nodded and Boromir rinsed his razor and scraped it once more across Pippin's foot.  
  
By the time he was finished and Pippin's feet were bare, they could see the tiny puncture wounds left by the lice. Boromir rubbed the tumeric and pyrethrum ointment into the trembling hobbit's feet and ankles, as Sam combed a generous amount through the remains of his hair as well. Once finished Pippin was carried back to the big bed by Boromir where the little hobbit curled up into himself, watching the others in the room, glad to be left alone at last.  
  
"Do Mr Frodo and me need to cut our hair as well?" Sam asked Deilen anxiously. "Not that it matters of course." Sam did not want to seem unhelpful in view of what Pippin had gone through, "but if there's no need..."  
  
Deilen, combed through Sam's hair and then Frodo's, inspecting carefully. "No, you seemed to have escaped, just comb the ointment in as a prevention. The elf then inspected Boromir's hair, "You have not avoided contact enough with the little one," Deilen found evidence of many nits in Boromir's hair and beard, "but that is understandable. Unfortunately though it means a haircut and a good shave, before treatment with the ointment."  
  
Boromir smiled, looking pointedly at Haldir, "It is a small price to pay, to offer whatever comfort I could to the little one. I will shave the beard off now and perhaps Master Samwise will oblige me with a trim."  
  
****  
  
Merry watched carefully as Silael ground the mushroom with a pestle and mortar and then decanted the milk he had brought into two separate water bags. The bags were made of some kind of animal skin and were soft and pliable, tapering to a point at the base. Into one he added the pulverised mushroom and then shook it to blend the fungus with the milk.  
  
They went through into the chamber where Pippin was still sitting curled up in one corner of the enormous bed, looking very lost and far too small in the ocean of mattress, pillows and silken sheets.  
  
The earlier visitors had left now, gone to pursue their de-lousing in more depth, Sam having been put in charge of the shears, but not particularly relishing having to trim Mr Strider's hair.  
  
Merry clambered up onto the far corner of the bed without help this time and sat diagonally opposite to Pippin, not even looking directly at him in case it should disturb him.  
  
Silael handed one of the bags to Deilen. He then made a puncture in the pointed end of the bag in his hand, which he sealed with his finger and thumb. He sat down next to Pippin on the bed, not looking at him directly but humming slightly a pretty melody. Pippin looked at the kindly elf and wondered what he was going to do to him.  
  
"Are you hungry Pippin?" Silael eventually asked. "You must be hungry by now, Deilen told me you were a little sick, I expect your tummy is quite empty."  
  
Pippin looked at him, not sure how to respond. Was this a taunt of some kind? Were they going to put the gag back in his mouth? "Y-yes, empty," he eventually managed. "Umummmum?" he tried hopefully.  
  
"That's what he calls the warg." Merry whispered helpfully, "when he wants to nurse."  
  
"Umummmum has sent some milk for you Pippin." Silael moved a little closer and stroked Pippin's face lightly. The touch scared Pippin again and he started to pull away, then remembered that doing that might result in a blow, so tolerated the touch instead. "Now I want you to nurse on this, it is the same milk, I promise." The elf placed the milk-filled skin next to Pippin's mouth and pressed the milky end of it against his lips.  
  
Pippin curled himself around into a foetal position and allowed his lips to fasten onto the milk-filled bag. The taste was similar to Umummmum, although the leather made it slightly different, but Pippin was very empty and thirsty and the milk was good. After he had been suckling for a while, the bag was taken away and then replaced. The milk tasted slightly different again this time but Pippin was not sure why. Also the puncture in the bag seemed more generous than before and the milk flowed faster but he carried on sucking until it was finished.  
  
**** Aragorn wrinkled up his nose at the smell of the concoction Frodo was combing through his hair. Icicle was at the other end of the clearing that housed several hot springs with her paws over her muzzle. "It is unfortunate that we do not have any scented soaps with which to drive away the smell of this stuff." He commented.  
  
"Unfortunate, indeed," said Legolas from his perch on a rock where he was observing, "not the least for those that must associate with you."  
  
"Hmph." was all Aragorn replied, then changing the subject, he addressed Sam, who was working through the tangles in Gimli's back braid. "Master Gamgee, I do believe it is time for Lady Icicle to take her bath. It does not appear that she in enjoying the fragrance either." he chuckled.  
  
"Actually, Mister Strider, If I may, I have somethin' in me pack that might be of use, if you follow me." At that. Sam padded down the path that led to the pavilion, and Legolas took his position behind Gimli.  
  
Boromir was shaving his beard with a small mirror hung on a tree trunk, his hair pulled back into a tail, having been combed through with turmeric by Frodo already. "Trust Samwise to have something for every occasion. I do hope Lord Elrond will not be unpleasantly surprised to find that many things of his have gone missing when we left Imladris."  
  
"Oh, I am sure Sam asked permission, Boromir," said Frodo, with a hint of ire in his voice.  
  
"Forgive me Frodo, I did not mean to imply that." Boromir quickly replied.  
  
"I know," laughed Frodo, "but he does seem to have a bottomless pack. I wonder where he puts every..."  
  
At that moment Sam re-entered the clearing. "This should take away the smell, Mister Strider!" Sam presented a medium sized cake of soap to Aragorn. It's something I never thought we'd use, but just in case one of us fell into a foul smelling bog or somesuch..."  
  
Aragorn began to chuckle. "I think we should use this on one condition, however." He said, looking around at each member of the Fellowship. "That we swear an oath to never, NEVER tell Lord Elrond that we used some of Rivendell's best strawberry scented soap on a warg!"  
  
****  
  
Merry stayed with Pippin for some time, simply sitting on the coverlet, and making no move. Pippin had curled up to sleep, breathing peacefully. Merry looked over his cousin's features, memorising every detail, right down to the little milky residue left on his lips.  
  
"Merry," Melystra's gentle voice came to him, "it is time for your delousing."  
  
Merry looked up at the beautiful elf and gave a forced smile. "Is the scarf re-made yet?"  
  
"It is finished. Now come, we will only be in the next room, and available if we are needed." She helped Merry down off the bed, and led him through a doorway hung with a gauze curtain.  
  
****  
  
Boromir was up to his neck in hot water. Literally. He was relaxing in one of the hot pools, his eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the water and idly watching the suds from Sam's work on Icicle go floating by and off down the little outlet that led from the pool.  
  
Said warg was distinctly ill at ease. She tolerated Sam's scrubbing, but looked as though she would rather be rolling around in the dust to make herself clean. Boromir made a mental note to remind Sam to tie her up somewhere where she wouldn't get dirty until she was dry. The scent of strawberries had overpowered the turmeric. Boromir was grateful that his brother was not here. Faramir would never have let Boromir forget bathing in scented soap like a female.  
  
"Absolutely NOT!" Gimli's voice broke into his reverie. "The trim I allowed, but I will not wallow in some elven perfume!" Boromir looked over to where Legolas had been trimming Gimli's hair and beard. It had actually come out rather well, as the elf had only taken a few inches off.  
  
"Master Dwarf," replied Legolas, do you mean you actually want to go about smelling like turmeric?" Legolas asked.  
  
"It is better than strawberries!" retorted Gimli. "Anything but strawberries!"  
  
When it came time for their turmeric treated hair to be washed, Sam and Frodo decided to venture into one of the hot pools, but Sam insisted they sit on the side to scrub their feet thoroughly first. Then he combed the hair on Frodo's feet carefully with the fine-toothed comb making sure there were no lice to be seen. Frodo returned the favour, before both the hobbits, rather shyly stripped off and climbed into the hot water, Sam lathering them both up with the strawberry soap. "I think I got all the turmeric out Mr. Frodo," Sam combed the dark locks carefully. "There aren't any lice either but you best wash off your face and neck 'cause they're turning yellow."  
  
"So are yours Sam." Frodo laughed, "That turmeric certainly stains badly. Your hair is bright yellow now as well, it rather suits you."  
  
"I don't think my Ma would think much of me having bright yellow hair, Sir." Sam worked the soap into a lather in his blond curls. "I'd best make sure it's all gone."  
  
The hobbits worked assiduously until every last scrap of the yellow stain was gone. Then climbed out of the pool and into waiting towels. They combed each others hair through once more to make there were no traces of infestation.  
  
While they were busying themselves on the edge of the pool Aragorn took their place and rubbed vigorously with the strawberry scented soap, dunking himself liberally every so often until all traces of the ointment was eradicated. Then he too sat on the side of the pool as Legolas obligingly combed through his hair, removing the nits that had tried to take up residence.  
  
"I think you look better without a beard," Frodo put his head on one side, eyeing the ranger critically. "What do you think Sam?"  
  
"I'm sure I wouldn't know Mr Frodo," Sam was not in the habit of making personal comments, "begging your pardon Mr Strider."  
  
"Well the beard will come back as it may." Aragorn laughed. "I allow it to grow for lack of time and wherewithal to remove it generally. You hobbits are lucky to only grow fur on your feet where it's useful."  
  
"Doesn't the fur on your face keep it warm?" Sam asked innocently. He found the idea of shaving very strange in any case.  
  
"Aye it does, Master Samwise." Gimli was combing his long beard with some pride. "I would not shave mine off for all the lice in Middle Earth."  
  
"Well you will have to wash it thoroughly Master Dwarf," Legolas pointed out. "It is now a very strange colour."  
  
"What!" Gimli roared and rushed to the tree to look in Boromir's looking glass. "Grrggghh! That is an abomination. My kin will disown me! I must wash it at once!"  
  
Gimli's beard, although its usual colour at on the ends, had become dyed at the root to a bright turmeric yellow. The hue was bad enough but the striped effect made it look comical.  
  
"No Mr Gimli!" Sam shouted in alarm. "You didn't leave the ointment on long enough yet, it won't have killed the vermin."  
  
"I shall be waiting in my chamber until the time is elapsed." Gimli snorted and turning to Sam added, "Please tell me Master Delouser when my allotted time is up so that I may rid myself of this. this. elven colour!" With that he stomped off in the direction of privacy.  
  
Legolas was not sure whether to be insulted or not. "I hope it comes off," he muttered, "Can't have Master Gimli looking like an elf!"  
  
****  
  
Deilen had helped Merry finish his delousing process. After the hobbit had washed his hair and feet, the elf had combed it through and pronounced him clear.  
  
"When will you wash Pippin's hair?" He asked. Merry was not used to Pippin being left out of anything that he did. "Do you want me to help?"  
  
"No, we will leave the ointment a little longer on your cousin." Deilen explained, "He was more thoroughly infested and it will do no harm to wait a while."  
  
Merry was happy that Pippin had finally taken the mushroom, even if he didn't know that he had. Melystra had finished knitting the scarf and Merry now had it with him, wrapped in a piece of silk and tied with a blue ribbon. Melystra had also told him very carefully, as she combed the lice ointment through Merry's hair, that he must go very slowly with Pippin, but should not give up, no matter what. The important thing she reminded him was to be patient and perhaps giving him the scarf as a gift might be a good first step.  
  
Silael left the chamber now and, although Deilen was still there he was not paying much attention at the moment to either of the hobbits, but was busying himself with preparing more lice ointment. Merry curled up on the bed too, into the same position as Pippin and watched his cousin watching him.  
  
Eventually, Pippin pulled himself to a sitting position and turned his head away from Merry, hiding his face in his bent up knees. Merry sat up too, his knees drawn up under his chin, but he kept his eyes fixed firmly on Pippin, smiling at him encouragingly, in case he should look back. After a while Merry decided to try and get his attention. "Pip, I've got something for you."  
  
Pippin turned his head and peeped at Merry under his arms. He saw Merry push something towards him. It looked like a gift, prettily wrapped in blue silk and tied with a matching bow. Why would Merry give him a gift, it wasn't Merry's birthday yet he didn't think. Merry had had his birthday at Yule, just before they left Rivendell, it couldn't be Yule again already. What did Merry want? What could he want from him? He was just a Dogwhore - something to be used. But Merry! No it was too much to bear. Pippin buried his head in his arms and sobbed again.  
  
Merry remembered what Silael had told him about not getting too close to Pippin and what Melystra had said about being patient, but Pippin seemed so locked into his own nightmare that it was as if nothing would ever break through. Tentatively he lessened the distance between them and, reaching out, touched Pip's shoulder. "Pip, my love, just look at your present. Don't cry, it's not meant to make you cry."  
  
Pippin sat up a little and wiped his face with the sleeve of the satin nightgown. He looked at the pretty present and at Merry, but made no other move. So Merry sat opposite Pip with the gift in between and pulled the ribbon undone. Still Pippin made no move to touch it, so Merry unfolded the wrapping and the scarf, newly made and clean and bright lay on the bed.  
  
Now Pippin did finally reach out and touch it, he looked up at Merry and gave a little gasp. His scarf, just as it looked the day Merry gave it to him the first time. "See Pip," Merry was speaking to him now. "The scarf has been mended and is just as good as new."  
  
Pippin, scarcely daring to believe what he was seeing, picked up the end of the scarf and touched it to his face. He looked up at Merry and he was smiling at him. Pippin took his scarf and backed up to the far side of the bed again. He hugged the end of the garment to his face holding it tightly as if it might be snatched away from him again.  
  
"Pip, my love." Merry was talking again. "You see if the scarf can be as good as new, so can you. If you let me help you, you can be my old Pip to go with the scarf, just as you were before."  
  
Pippin shook his head sadly. He knew that could never be. Merry would always know what had happened and so would he. He could never be reknitted like the scarf. "Yes Pip." Merry saw the denial and remembered what Silael had told him. "You survived, you're a hero, a brave, brave hero. Everyone thinks you are so brave and strong Pip, you beat them all, you won. You lived."  
  
"Noooo! Don't say it Merry. Please don't say it -what happened. . . no! no! no! please don't" Pippin was sobbing again. Whatever Merry had put in his mind it was too soon and Pippin couldn't cope with it.  
  
Be patient Merry thought and try something else. "Pip it wasn't your fault, any of it. It was my fault and if I could take any of it away I would. Please Pip believe me." But Pippin was lost again in his tears and anguish. Merry fell once more into silence, sitting quietly on the bed.  
  
Eventually Pippin stopped crying and just hiccupped into the scarf, which he still clutched tightly as if his life depended on it. Merry knew Pip wouldn't let him touch him but very slowly he reached out until he had hold of the other end of the scarf. Moving up to the top of the bed he sat hunched up against the headboard in the same position as Pippin holding the other end of the scarf, but still with a good distance between them. Gradually Pippin relaxed and lay down among the pillows, opening his eyes every so often to check if Merry was still there.  
  
After a while Merry climbed down off the bed to go and relieve himself and Deilen offered him a bite to eat and a drink at the same time. Merry accepted readily, suddenly realising it had been a long time since he had last eaten. "Please Sir," The hobbit asked politely. "Do you have anything that I could write with?"  
  
"Why of course Merry." Deilen smiled and fetched him a quill, ink and parchment. "Do you want to write for yourself or shall you dictate and I can write while you eat."  
  
"No, that's all right," Merry took up the quill, he was a good penman, "I can manage and I want this to be personal." He set to work and after an hour had filled the paper with his large round hand. He then made sure the ink was dry before folding the parchment and tying it with the same blue ribbon that had been around the scarf.  
  
Merry went back to the bed to find Pippin still wide-awake and looking less fearful as he climbed onto the bed. Merry resumed his position at the headboard and just sat not looking at Pippin and making no moves towards him.  
  
A small smile played about his lips, although he was laughing with delight inside when Pippin eventually, very tentatively picked up the other end of the scarf that he was still clutching and held it out to Merry.  
  
Merry took the end of the scarf and they sat together on the bed not speaking or touching, but connected by a piece of woollen material that had been knitted together with great love.  
  
They remained like that for an hour at least and eventually Merry decided to try and speak again. "Pip? You know you can be reknitted again, just like the scarf."  
  
"No don't!" Pippin immediately froze again as Merry spoke to him.  
  
Merry had been ready for this and pulled out the parchment and pushed it towards his nervous cousin. "It's a present - for you. You can read it later if you want."  
  
They carried on sitting and sitting until eventually Merry snuggled down into the pillows and closed his eyes, still holding his end of the scarf. Pippin watched his cousin carefully and then his vision strayed to the untouched gift. Carefully, his eyes never leaving Merry, he reached out and snatched the piece of parchment. He squirreled it close and wondered what it could possibly be. He could look, it seemed safe, there was no one else around. Using one hand, as he did not want to let go of the scarf, he pulled the ribbon free and unfolded the parchment. It was a poem, a long one. At the top of the page was written. "To Pippin with all my love forever - your Merry."  
  
Pippin read the poem, hardly daring to believe the words he saw there.  
  
To Pippin with all my love forever - your Merry  
  
  
  
When we were young  
  
Our world was fine  
  
I was yours  
  
and you were mine  
  
  
  
I paused for a moment -  
  
looked the wrong way  
  
And all that was lost  
  
In one single day.  
  
  
  
You seem to be near  
  
but really you're gone  
  
I need you back here,  
  
where you belong  
  
  
  
Please come back to me  
  
I'll never hurt you  
  
Or make you feel sad  
  
I'll never desert you  
  
  
  
I'll bake you a cake  
  
of laughter and fun  
  
Paint you a world  
  
of big yellow sun  
  
  
  
Give back your dreams  
  
from when you were small  
  
And nothing could touch you,  
  
nothing at all  
  
  
  
We laughed at tomorrow  
  
There was no time to cry  
  
I'll bring it all back  
  
If you just let me try.  
  
  
  
There was no need to say it  
  
when we were together  
  
Inside we both knew  
  
we'd be friends forever  
  
  
  
I gave you my heart  
  
And if my soul endures  
  
It can't fly to the Valar  
  
Because Pippin it's yours.  
  
  
  
Pippin thought he had no tears left to cry that day but now they fell onto the parchment, making the ink run. Pippin wiped his eyes with his sleeve again, not wanting to spoil the precious words. Could it really be true? Did Merry still love him? Pippin thought at that moment that his heart would break. He crept over to Merry, reeling in the scarf as he did so and laid his head on Merry's foot and closed his sore red eyes. "I love you Merry," he whispered before falling asleep.  
  
***  
  
Poem to Pippin(Liza Jones 2002  
  
New Story Alert: "A Short Rest in Hollin" by Pansy Chubb. V. cute, short and sweet!  
  
I also have a new fantasy children's story up. "The Suppertime Dragon". Llinos and Marigold beta'd and wrote some. 


	24. Scoured

Moria's Revenge, chapter 24: Scoured  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
A/N: For those of you that are wondering why I am giving Llinos so much to write, it is because most of the ideas for healing Pip are hers. When I started I thought I had a good healing plot, but then she made some suggestions and we were off to the races. Any ways, big round of applause for Llinos, who can write one and a half stories and pitch poetry t the same time!  
  
*** Merry awoke to a gentle hand on his shoulder and a warm weight on his feet. "Merry." A soft voice whispered, "Wake up quietly." Merry opened his eyes and blinked owlishly.  
  
"What-" he began, but a finger was placed over his lips, hushing him. Silael's face swam into focus above him.  
  
"Softly, Merry. Do not disturb your cousin," Silael looked to the foot of the bed, and so did Merry. Merry's breath caught in his throat at what he saw. Pippin was asleep, his precious head resting on Merry's foot, the tiny lips moving in inaudible slumbering murmurs. A movement beside and below the bed caught Merry's attention. Icicle was there, reared up on her hind paws, looking at Pippin and whimpering.  
  
Silael tried to stop her, but it was too late. She jumped upon the bed and curled up around Pippin, nuzzling and licking him until he woke. Pippin raised his head and looked blearily around. At the sight of Merry and Silael, he gave a tiny cry and buried his head in Icicle's side. She whined again and pushed the back of his head into her belly. Pippin immediately latched onto a teat, and began to nurse.  
  
"Come, Merry," said Silael, helping Merry from under the tangle of wolf and hobbit. "Let us meet with your comrades for your own breakfast. Pippin is in good hands...er paws for the time being, you have had little nourishment or companionship for the last day." Merry paused to look in the mirror and attempt to make himself presentable. Giving it up as a lost cause, he took Silael's proffered hand and began the descent out of the mallorn.  
  
***  
  
Down at the base of the tree a large table had been set up, with eight chairs. The rest of the Fellowship sat, waiting for Merry and Silael. When the duo arrived, Frodo jumped up and ran to Merry, Sam following at a discreet distance behind his master. Frodo hugged Merry tightly, until Merry was forced to prod him in the back to let him go so that Merry could draw a breath. "Merry, how is Pippin this morning?" Frodo asked.  
  
"He is much better," said Merry, "at least," he added quickly from what I could see. I am no healer." Merry looked up at Silael for guidance. The elf smiled.  
  
"Yes, Master Frodo, Master Peregrin is doing much better. Before I woke Merry up, I checked on little Pippin. The tummy wound is healing up nicely; there are fewer lesions, so I think he can start eating solid food again. And," he added, "there was a breakthrough of another sort this morning, was not there, Merry?" Silael winked at him.  
  
"Oh, uh," Merry turned red when he found that all eyes were on him. "When I woke up this morning, Pip had crawled over and was sleeping with his head on my feet."  
  
"That's wonderful Merry!" exclaimed Boromir.  
  
"Indeed, it is good tidings. That means he still trusts you, Merry. Unlike," Aragorn sighed, "some of us."  
  
"Oh, Mister Strider, I'm sure Mister Pippin still trusts you, I mean, now that you aren't doing anything bad to him any more." Sam gasped as he realised what he'd just said. "Oh!, er, I mean...oh dear..."  
  
"Don't worry Sam, I know what you meant. After we break our fast, I intend to go up to Pippin and do something about it."  
  
"And speaking of breaking our fast," Gimli rumbled, "we are now all here, so let us start!" At this Merry looked at the dwarf for the first time.  
  
"Why, Gimli! What happened to your beard?" Next to him Frodo spewed out a mouthful of tea he had been in the middle of consuming, choking down laughter. The rest of the fellowship had been trying not to notice the fact that not all of the turmeric had come out, however, Merry's query had broken them, and the hobbit wondered why everyone was hunched over, shaking with suppressed laughter.  
  
"Oh, it's just that Master Dwarf does not appreciate strawberries!" Legolas said.  
  
Merry decided that all would be explained in time, sighed, and settled down for the serious business of breakfast.  
  
****  
  
From the bushes at the edge of the clearing, unseen by all, two lamplike eyes watched the scene. They fixed on the pale, brown haired hobbit with the bright blue eyes.  
  
"Bagginssssss..." hissed through the leaves, softer than wind, "my Precsssioussssssss..."  
  
****  
  
Deilen glanced in at Pippin once or twice but each time he was still snuggled up to the warg. The elf brought a large basin of warm water ready to wash the perian as soon as he finished nursing. He laid out beside the basin, fragrant healing oil and soap, with towels and cloths for washing. That done, Deilen decided to come back in a while when the warg had finished her own version of washing Pippin.  
  
Pippin always lay very still when Umummmum washed him. She still, as she had from the first, would put one large paw on his back to hold him down, while licking his bare flesh assiduously. The satin nightgown worried her very much and she pulled it off as well as she could, tearing the fine material with her sharp teeth as she did so. Pippin did not mind her attentions; in fact they comforted him a great deal, in spite of the fact that they were a reminder of Moria. And now he had his scarf as well and clutched it tightly, falling back to sleep while Umummmum soothed him with her tongue.  
  
He was crawling on the floor, his face in the dirt, covered in semen, urine and his own blood. The orcs had used him and kicked him about like the piece of garbage that he was. Pippin whimpered slightly and stirred restlessly in his nightmare making Icicle push down more firmly with her heavy paw. The heavy weight on his back signalled yet another orc pressing his vile penis into him, pounding relentlessly into his worthless body, using him like a latrine. The filth invaded every part of his being, inside and out, nothing could clean him again, nothing!  
  
Suddenly the image changed, Pippin as he lay in the dirt looked up and saw again the bright lady, the one who had made him sleep. The one who was so clean and white, he dare not be in the same room as her - he could not - his filth and dirt would surely disgust one so pure. Merry must feel the same, and even if he didn't, he could not soil dear, sweet Merry with his disgusting self ever again.  
  
Pippin woke with a jump. Umummmum had finished licking him and had jumped off the bed leaving him asleep. She had scratched at the chamber door until Deilen had let her out.  
  
Pippin lay still, remembering the images that had just played through his head. The same images that visited every time he fell asleep. He was so filthy, so dirty. so unclean, Merry should not have to tolerate his vileness. And yet? Pippin looked frantically around, where was the parchment Merry had given him. He found it folded neatly and tucked beneath his pillow. Pippin undid it and read it through once more.  
  
It was not fair, Merry did want him, but how could he inflict his disgusting, filthy, what had the elf said, orc-tainted self on Merry. Perhaps he was already an orc himself, that was what he had thought before.  
  
Pippin sat on the bed crying, his shoulders heaving with sobs. Then he saw the basin that Deilen had set ready for him to be washed. Perhaps if he tried harder?  
  
The little hobbit tried to climb off the bed, but was so weak he tumbled to the floor instead. He sat up and then tried to stand but could not find the strength so instead he crawled over to the large basin. It was big enough for Pippin to sit in and there beside it was soap for washing. He picked up the soap and sniffed it, finding it sweetly fragrant, far too good for his filthy body.  
  
He could hear the white clad elf singing to himself in the other room, but he did not seem to have heard Pippin's movements.  
  
Looking further around Pippin saw an open cupboard door and inside he could see cleaning things, such as they kept in the scullery at Great Smails. He crawled on all fours and looked inside. There was a scrubbing brush a bar of lye soap and a canvas bag, which Pippin discovered, contained abrasive scouring powder. Putting the brush and soap into the bag, he scrambled back with these prizes to the basin.  
  
The satin nightgown was ripped to pieces after Umummmum's earlier treatment and it came off easily now. The naked hobbit climbed into the basin, wincing as the hot water touched his burns and the wound in his stomach. Undaunted Pippin took the brush and, dipping it into the scouring powder, began desperately scrubbing at his skin, starting with his ugly, hairless feet and then his legs. He scrubbed relentlessly at his hands and arms and his stomach, moving more tentatively to his backside, but still he dipped into the abrasive powder and scoured as much as he could reach.  
  
Pippin did not even notice that the water was turning red with his blood as he frantically tried to scour his little body clean. Then he thought about his mouth and what had been done there. He took the lye soap and broke a small corner off and rubbed it inside his mouth. The taste was disgusting but, even so, more wholesome than the taint he wished to rid himself of.  
  
As the soap went down his throat, Pippin's insides rebelled and he retched violently, vomiting most of his last feed over the side of the basin onto the floor. Seeing what he had done, Pippin dropped the soap and took the brush again, scrubbing at himself and sobbing frantically.  
  
****  
  
"Now Merry," Silael saw that the perian had finished eating and was starting to look anxious, obviously needing to get back to his cousin as soon as he could. "I think it's time we got Pippin to eat something."  
  
"Oh do you think he could?" Merry was worried at Pippin's total reliance on Icicle's milk for sustenance, "What could he have."  
  
"I have prepared this for him." Silael had not been eating at the table, but had been cutting up various succulent fruits into small pieces and laying them out on a little tray. "Would you like to take it to him? Just give him a little piece at a time and let him see you eat some yourself."  
  
"Yes, I can do that." Merry happily took the tray from Silael. "Is anyone else coming?" "We'll come up in a moment, Merry." Frodo said. "Perhaps we'd better not crowd Pippin while he's eating."  
  
"I'll come now, Merry." Aragorn drew out the woollen stockings he had for Pippin's naked feet. "I expect he'll need these soon."  
  
Aragorn had survived the delousing with a minimal haircut, although a complete shave, nevertheless he was glad to be rid of the constant itching that had started to fill his every waking moment and even bringing him sharply back from his slumber every so often.  
  
Together the man and hobbit ascended the stairs and were admitted to the chamber by Deilen.  
  
"Is he awake?" Merry asked. "Silael said I could bring him some real breakfast."  
  
"The last time I looked he had gone back to sleep," Deilen frowned a little. "I probably need to renew the hot water I left to wash him with as that was some time ago."  
  
Aragorn stayed to talk to Deilen for a moment as Merry went ahead with his tray of fruit. But they both ran forward at the sound of a loud clatter as the tray hit the ground followed by Merry's anguished cry. "Oh Pippin! No!"  
  
Aragorn and Deilen scarcely knew where to begin. The little hobbit was sitting naked in the basin of water, which now was bright red with his blood, still frantically scrubbing at his skin with a hard bristled brush. Scouring powder was spilled all over the floor and Pippin had obviously been violently sick. His skin was raw and bleeding in many places and as he scrubbed he sobbed and sobbed.  
  
Merry reacted first; he snatched the brush from Pippin's hand and put his arms around him. Pippin fought Merry off and continued rubbing at his skin with his hands, frantic now in his task. Aragorn reached down and lifted Pippin up from the water and wrapped him in the large towel that Deilen held out for him. Swaddling him tightly Aragorn rocked him to and fro, whispering softly, "No Pippin, no, no."  
  
"What was he doing?" Merry whispered in awe at his cousin's self- destructive behaviour. The bemused hobbit was standing beside Aragorn, one hand on Pippin's back. He was soaking wet from grabbing Pippin and covered in his blood as well.  
  
Deilen took Merry's hand and led him a little way away. "Such actions are not uncommon for one who has suffered these kind of hurts." Deilen offered Merry a towel to dry himself. "He feels unclean and is desperately trying to wash away what he perceives as his own uncleanliness."  
  
"But it is not Pippin who is dirty." Merry gasped. "It is those who did that to him."  
  
"I know Merry," Deilen said squatting down to be face to face with the hobbit. "But Pippin doesn't know that yet. There is still much healing to do with his mind and you must be the chief healer. Can you do that?"  
  
"I-I don't know." Merry stammered. He was thoroughly thrown by Pippin's behaviour, especially when he thought he had made such progress the night before. "But I won't give up - ever! I promise!"  
  
**** 


	25. Calmed

Moria's Revenge, chapter 25: Calmed  
  
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos  
  
***  
  
Pippin sobbed into the towel as he was lain on the soft coverlet. Strider was holding him, and talking to the white elf. Pippin managed to look over to the basin. The scouring powder and vomit had not been cleaned up yet.  
  
"I-I', s-s-sorry Master." Pippin whispered to Aragorn. "ma-ma-made a mess..."  
  
Aragorn stroked Pippin's hair and smiled sadly down at him. "Shh, little one, don't worry. It's nothing...shh..." The towel was becoming soaked with blood, and Aragorn motioned to Deilen for another.  
  
"Let us move him to the adjoining room," suggested Deilen, "where it will be easier to treat his wounds, and give the attendants a chance to clean up this one." As he and Aragorn started to leave, Merry immediately started to follow them, anxious to be near Pippin.  
  
"No, Merry." Strider admonished. "You must not be involved with this. Stay here and help straighten the room." They turned and left, leaving Merry forlorn and lonely.  
  
"Oh, Merry." Said a soft voice behind him. Frodo, Sam, and Legolas had just entered, thinking that Pippin would be finished with his breakfast by then. The three stared around the chamber, at the scattered fruit, vomit, scouring powder and blood.  
  
Merry collapsed, sobbing. Warm arms encircled him, and Frodo murmured into his hair. Merry began to babble. "He was doing so much better, why was he scrubbing, I should have never left him, Oh, my poor little Pip..." Legolas reached down and lifted Merry from Frodo, sitting on the side of the bed and pulling the perian into his lap.  
  
"Shh, Merry. Be at peace. Now, tell us what happened. And where is Pippin?"  
  
Merry choked down a sob, took a deep breath and related what he had seen when he walked into the room.  
  
***  
  
Aragorn was hard put to keep Pippin still. The halfling kept squirming out of his grasp, trying to rub at himself. The fact that Pippin was still slippery with soap and blood did not help the situation. Finally, the ranger had had enough, and took Pippin's head between his hands.  
  
"Peregrin, listen to me." The green eyes widened and fixed on Aragorn's face. "Tell me, why were you..." Aragorn hesitated to use the term 'washing' for what Pippin had been doing, "scrubbing yourself? You're not dirty, you are a very clean little hobbit, and you will only hurt yourself if you try this again."  
  
Tears started to slide down Pippin's cheeks. He had made Master angry. Now he was going to be beaten for stealing the soap and brush, and wasting it on himself. And he could not tell them his wild hope - that if he were cleansed, they might let him see the bright lady again. Now that he thought about it, the notion was foolish. He would never be allowed to see her; he would never be clean again. Not for her, not for Merry, not for anyone.  
  
Deilen was terribly upset at what had happened. "I am so sorry I did not observe the little one better. I was distracted and I thought he was sleeping."  
  
"I know," Aragorn was gently rocking Pippin again, "One of us should have stayed with him also."  
  
"I will prepare a soothing ointment for the little one's abraded skin." Deilen was especially anxious to make amends for his lack of vigilance.  
  
It took a long time to stop Pippin crying, but Aragorn finally made him calm enough that they could lay him on a high table so Deilen and Melystra could gently sponge away the blood and Aragorn very gently soothed in the ointment that Deilen had prepared. It was not only healing, but served to numb the nerve endings to reduce pain. After the scrapes were dressed, Melystra helped Aragorn wrap them in soft gauze and secure the padding with bandages.  
  
Pippin coughed a little, and worked his mouth busily. Aragorn noticed this, and called Melystra's attention to it. "What do you suppose is making him do that?" she asked.  
  
"I have not the faintest idea." Aragorn took Pippin's head in his hands again, and looked into the wide eyes. "Pippin, what is wrong with your mouth?" Instantly Pippin pursed his lips and refused to move them. "Does your mouth hurt?" Aragorn was concerned that Pippin's delicate mouth had suffered permanent damage from the gag.  
  
The shorn curls barely moved as Pippin ducked his chin quickly in a nod. Aragorn reached out and gently felt around Pippin's jaw. He could not feel any breakage or dislocation, and Pippin did not seem to flinch at any one spot.  
  
Melystra leaned over Pippin and queried, "Does your mouth taste bad?" This was also confirmed by a small nod. Aragorn then opened Pippin's mouth, and looked inside.  
  
He could see a strange, pale substance clinging to Pippin's teeth. After reaching in with one finger and scraping some out, he sniffed it.  
  
"Oh, Pippin." He sighed sadly. "Poor little Pippin. Why did you eat lye soap?"  
  
The little body began to shake with sobs again, and tears leaked from the corners of Pippin's eyes. "I-I," he stuttered "dirty, th-they were s-s-so dirty, an' an'...in m-my m-m-m-mouth...tasted so bad..." When Aragorn figured out what the abused hobbit was telling him, his jaw dropped in shock.  
  
"Poor little Pippin," He said again. The horrors the little one had gone through were almost unimaginable. "I know you feel dirty, but you are not." Aragorn took Pippin's hands between his own and placed a kiss on the pale brow. "From now on, if you want a bath, or a mouth wash, tell me, or Merry, or...anyone. We don't want to have to go through this again, now do we?" Pippin shook his head. Aragorn turned to Melystra. "I don't suppose you would have a horse hair toothbrush and peppermint about?" She chuckled, and started to rummage in various cabinets for the said items.  
  
Deilen stepped into the bedchamber, where the hobbits were helping remake the bed, scurrying around the edges, tucking the sheets under the mattress. Most of the mess had been cleaned up, except for a few errant bloodstains that would likely become a permanent part of the decor.  
  
When Merry spotted him standing in the doorway, the hobbit dropped the stack of pillows in his arms and rushed over. "How is Pippin, is he all right, what..."  
  
Deilen held up his hands to stem the flood of questions. "Do not fear, young Merry. The Dunedin and Melystra are finishing tending to him. When the scrapes are healed, he will bear no mark." By this time the other halflings had padded over and stood in front of him as well.  
  
"When can we see him?" asked Frodo. Legolas came over at this time and placed a hand on Frodo and Sam's shoulders.  
  
"You will see him when someone comes for us telling us that we may see him, Master Baggins. Now, come. Pippin did not get a chance to have his breakfast. Let us go and find things to amuse Pippin with when he is ready to receive us."  
  
"Well let us just stay with Merry until we see that Pip is all right." Frodo insisted.  
  
"Very well." Deilen agreed, "But then you need to give him a little time, perhaps just with Merry."  
  
***  
  
They wrapped Pippin in yet another towel and Aragorn held him over a basin while Melystra washed the turmeric from his hair, then lifted his head so she could comb his shorn locks through to remove the nits. The whole time Pippin whimpered and trembled. "Don't be afraid, Pippin," she whispered to him, "why do you quiver? There is nothing to fear."  
  
Aragorn laid him on the high table and he too made reassuring noises, breathing soft, gentle words into the hobbit's pointed ear. "Pippin, little one, don't fret so. I won't let any harm come to you."  
  
Eventually Pippin spoke with a shaky voice, "Mas-master, p-please don't hurt me, I'm sorry, sorry. No more, please."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I'm not your master, Pippin and I won't hurt you. You used to call me Strider, do you remember? Or Aragorn, can you say that?"  
  
Pippin opened his eyes wide again and stared at the shaven face, it did not seem familiar. He remembered Master's face, the one who beat him and abused him and then that face sometimes looked like Strider's face, he remembered Strider and Boromir with the whip, beating him. But this face looked different again. Why could he not keep his thoughts in order, everything got muddled all the time.  
  
But one memory suddenly came hurtling back. Merry! He remembered he had been on the big bed with Merry. That was when he knew he was too dirty for Merry and had tried to clean himself. Perhaps he still couldn't touch him, but at least Merry stayed the same, he could look at him and listen to him talk again. He whispered the word hopefully to Master, "Merry?" Then quickly cringed his head down as if expecting a blow.  
  
Aragorn gently lifted his chin up with one finger, "Pippin, you want to go to Merry? Is that what you want?"  
  
"Please Master." Pippin confirmed anxiously, still obviously expecting to be in trouble.  
  
Aragorn considered this was progress. The only other time Pippin had actually asked for anything was to go to the warg. To actually ask for Merry was a real breakthrough. But he needed to bargain. "You can go to Merry, but you must tell me your name and my name first."  
  
Pippin gulped in obvious terror. He hated these questions, always expecting a trick of some kind. The memory of the three Uruks came tumbling back at once.  
  
"Dog."  
  
"No, Pippin. Think, remember what I told you."  
  
"Wh-what must I say, Master?" Pippin stuttered in terror.  
  
"Your name is Pippin - Pippin! Say, 'my name is Pippin'."  
  
"Pippin - my name is Pippin," he repeated obediently.  
  
"and my name is?" Aragorn tried.  
  
"Master."  
  
Aragorn sighed in defeat. Pippin was getting too stressed again and half right was better than nothing. "It's Strider, but it's all right, you can go to Merry. Here, Pippin," Strider said quietly, "take my hand." Pippin had been dressed in a new loose shirt, and a pair of overlarge hose. Tentatively, he reached out and grasped Strider's thumb. "That's right, little Pip." Aragorn reached behind Pippin and pushed up the small of his back, helping him to sit up. Pippin made as if to let go of the ranger's thumb, but Strider closed his hand around Pippin's tiny one and held it. Melystra took his other one, and together they lifted Pippin gently down to the floor. The hobbit swayed and teetered as if he were a babe learning to walk, and was bent over from the sutures on his abdomen.  
  
"Come along, dear heart." chimed Melystra leading him towards the door. Pippin followed her, clutching her hand.  
  
Once in the bedchamber, Aragorn lifted Pippin up onto the bed once more and laid him gently on the pillows.  
  
Merry was waiting there with Frodo, Sam and Legolas. "How is he?" Merry asked anxiously.  
  
Aragorn smiled. "Better, he asked for you, Merry. We'll leave you alone with him for a little while, see what you can do." Strider turned to the other three, "Come let us see if we can replace the little one's breakfast."  
  
"Some more fruit Mr Strider?" Sam asked.  
  
"We'll find that and perhaps we can come back and keep Merry and Pippin company for a while?" Frodo suggested.  
  
"That would be good," Aragorn agreed "and your assignment for today is to teach him that his name is Pippin and my name is not Master." With that he lifted Merry up onto the bed and ushered the others out of the door.  
  
**** "What do you think we should do to help Pippin?" Frodo wondered as he and Sam sat at the table carefully cutting up more fruit. That is to say, Sam cut up the fruit and Frodo arranged it on the tray and then, when his master wasn't looking, Sam rearranged it.  
  
"I'm not sure, Master Frodo," Sam measured several pieces of apple and trimmed them until they were all the same size. "What did Mr Pippin used to like to do when he came to visit with you?"  
  
"Well," Frodo absent-mindedly ate one of Sam's carefully sized apple slices. "He used to like to go to the pub."  
  
"I don't think we could give him ale," Sam pointed out, cutting another apple slice for the design he was making to replace the one Frodo had eaten. "But as I remember he used to like to sing at the pub."  
  
"Yes and dance," Frodo agreed taking a chunk of peach now and nibbling at it, "but I don't think he'll be up to that."  
  
"Anything else he liked to do?" Sam patiently took another peach from the bowl and started to cut that, this time putting some on the tray and the rest on a plate for Frodo.  
  
"He used to love to paint!" Frodo remembered with enthusiasm. "Perhaps we could get paints and brushes and see if he'll do that."  
  
"Who would we ask?" Sam had never actually painted in his life and had no idea how to set about such a thing.  
  
"I shouldn't think that activity would be difficult here." Frodo picked at the cherries Sam had pitted and popped two in his mouth. I'm sure Melystra would find us painting equipment. I'll go and ask her now." Frodo took another piece of apple. "Are you sure you can manage here all right Sam?"  
  
"Erm I'll struggle by master, don't you worry." Sam said with a certain amount of irony as he began to peel yet another apple.  
  
****  
  
When Pippin saw Merry, the little hobbit buried his face into the bed and started crying, but Merry was determined now it was time to reach out to him. He tentatively touched his short hair, now clean but still damp, and whispered softly. "Pip, it's only me, only your Merry. Come on out, come and play. Do you want breakfast? How about second breakfast?"  
  
Pippin eventually peeped out from under his arm at Merry's insistent presence. Merry immediately flattened down on the bed and peeped back at him from under his own arm. "Peep-bo!" he teased. Pippin immediately hid his face again, but after a minute, when he could still hear Merry there, he peeped out once more.  
  
Merry lay there quietly, still peeping at him, and he hid again. But Merry would not go away, and eventually Pippin lay there looking at Merry, looking back at him. Then Merry very slowly kissed the tip of his finger and blew the kiss to Pippin.  
  
Pippin hid again, but the next time he looked Merry blew the kiss once more and then kissed his finger and held it out to Pippin. Very slowly Pippin struggled his own little hand out of the sleeve of the big nightshirt and started to put his finger to his own lips, but thought better of it. But he looked at Merry's finger still held out to him and pushing his hand across the bed touched Merry's finger with his.  
  
Merry felt as if a lightening bolt had hit him. Except it was a feeling of elation that shot through his whole being. Pippin had touched him!  
  
Very, very carefully, Merry curled his finger around Pippin's until their fingers were entwined and Merry wriggled just a tiny bit closer. For now it was enough and they lay still like that until Aragorn whispered, "Merry, Pippin, let's try breakfast again."  
  
The ranger and the three healer elves had watched the little pantomime from beginning to end. Melystra and Silael had arrived shortly after Aragorn had placed the two hobbits on the bed.  
  
"Merry is doing splendidly," Melystra said very quietly so as not to disturb them.  
  
"These two must stay together henceforth." Silael concluded. "For good or ill, any separation now will cause more harm than anything else. Whatever treatment Pippin receives, I think at this stage he will handle it better with Merry to hold his hand."  
  
Melystra went to the bed and tapped Merry gently on the shoulder. "Do you want to change your things Merry?" She asked gently.  
  
Merry suddenly realised that he was still covered in Pippin's blood from where he had tried to stop him scrubbing. "Yes I'd better," he agreed.  
  
"If you go and wash in there," Melystra indicated the other room, "and put this on, I will see that your clothes are cleaned and returned to you." Melystra handed him a large nightgown, identical to one Pippin was wearing.  
  
By the time Merry returned, Pippin had been propped up with pillows on the bed with the tray of fruit beside him, Aragorn was tentatively offering him a slice of peach. He did not really expect the hobbit to take it and Pippin just looked fearfully up at him, wondering what he wanted.  
  
Merry was lifted up onto the bed again and took the piece of fruit from Aragorn and ate it with great relish. Pippin watched him suspiciously. He looked down at the nightgown he was wearing and then frowned at Merry. He was wearing the same thing. That was strange Pippin thought. And he ate the thing that Master gave him, was he Merry's Master too?  
  
Merry took two cherries and held one to his own mouth and offered the other to Pippin. The hobbit just looked at it and looked up at Merry, then at Aragorn. The ranger nodded and smiled. "Put it in your mouth Pippin. It's good, eat it."  
  
Pippin shook his head and backed away from Merry. Merry shrugged and ate both the cherries, then took two pieces of peach. Again he offered one to Pippin and held the other to his own mouth.  
  
Pippin suddenly realised that he really wanted to eat. Merry was next to him, he was dressed the same and he was eating the fruit, it had to be safe. He took the peach slice and put it in his mouth.  
  
Instantly his body reacted. Although his brain had told him it was all right, his automotive reactions disagreed. He retched and choked and spat the fruit out.  
  
Melystra was watching and understood what had happened. In spite of Pippin's logic reasoning that it was safe to eat, his subconscious was causing his body to reject anything solid that was put into his mouth. It was still too soon.  
  
"Here Merry," she brought a small cup filled with fruit juice to the bed. "See if you can get him to drink from a cup instead."  
  
Merry looked firmly at Pip and took a pretend sip from the cup and then held it up to Pippin's lips although he didn't tip the vessel up. After a moment or two, Pippin brought his hand up to the cup and tilted it. He sipped the fruit juice, some of it running down his chin but most of it down his throat. It tasted wonderful.  
  
Several more sips and Pippin held the cup on his own and eventually drained the whole cup. "Try again with a little fruit," Melystra suggested. "Half a slice of peach."  
  
Merry took a piece of peach and bit it in half and put the other half in Pippin's hand and nodded for him to try again. "Chew it Pip," he said. "Try not to swallow, just keep chewing."  
  
Obediently Pippin chewed the piece of fruit round and round trying hard not to swallow it. Eventually it vanished down his throat anyway. "Sorry Merry." Pippin whispered fearfully, "It just went."  
  
"That's good!" Merry smiled encouragingly, "Do it again, just chew and don't think about eating."  
  
Pippin let Merry feed him another sliver of peach and again, he chewed it until it was gone. The little hobbit managed a dozen small pieces of fruit this way and then shook his head at any more.  
  
"That's enough," Melystra agreed. "You've done very well Pippin. Look Frodo and Sam have come to see you and they've brought something for you to do."  
  
The two hobbits struggled into the room laden down with tins and brushes and parchment. Legolas came behind with more equipment and once Melystra and Deilen laid a large cloth on the floor they began to lay out their wares. There were tins of different colour powder paints and Frodo started mixing up the different colours in several little palettes. There were lots of sheets of rough paper and good parchment, as well as charcoal and thick pencils for drawing. There was even a slate with chalk for making very rough sketches.  
  
Frodo raised his eyebrows to Pippin, "Do you want to come and draw Pip?"  
  
Pippin shook his head, not too sure what he was being invited to do, although it didn't seem too threatening.  
  
Frodo started to make a little sketch on the rough paper of Sam, making the embarrassed hobbit sit still in a profile pose. Legolas began a freehand painting straight onto the rich vellum parchment, using greens and yellow to make a pretty woodland scene.  
  
Pippin watched this activity with interest and Merry watched Pippin watching it. After a while Merry tried again. "Do you want to paint Pippin? You like painting, come on, I'll do some too."  
  
Pippin finally nodded and Legolas carefully lifted him down from the bed and Merry brought three pillows, one for him to sit on and two to prop him up. They gave Pippin a choice of paintbrush or pencil and he chose the latter and Merry rested some rough paper on the little slate so he could draw.  
  
Merry began a painting of a cake with icing and candles on it that looked just like the cake at Bilbo's last birthday party. Legolas had finished his woodland scene and was painting a mallorn tree in gold and green. Frodo finished his sketch of Sam and showed it to him, making Sam smile with surprised delight. Pippin just sat with the pencil in his hand still watching.  
  
"You paint something Sam," Frodo suggested, "or can you sketch?"  
  
"I don't know Master Frodo," Sam was a little nervous at the prospect, "I haven't done proper painting before."  
  
"Well it's easy enough." Frodo handed him a paintbrush, "it doesn't matter if you mess it up, it's whatever you feel."  
  
Sam took a piece of the rough paper and dipped his brush in the blue pallet and nervously dabbed a little on to the blank sheet, then he washed the brush and added a little green. Gradually growing in confidence, Sam's picture took shape, a green verge scattered with little blue flowers. Frodo looked over his shoulder. "That's lovely Sam, blue flowers."  
  
"Well er, yes begging your pardon, Master Frodo," Sam pointed to each of his flowers in turn, "that's meant to be a grape hyacinth, and this is willow gentian, and these are germander speedwell."  
  
Frodo laughed, "Forgive me Sam, I'm always forgetting how much you know about flowers and it seems you can paint them as well as grow them."  
  
"Pippin, are you going to draw something?" Merry whispered to the little hobbit, who still sat clutching the pencil and looking at Sam and Frodo as they bantered to and fro.  
  
"How about the paints Pip?" Frodo suggested. "Come on, we'll put the pallet right here, I'll help you." He moved the colour pallet up to where Pippin could reach it and taking the pencil from his hand gave him a brush instead. Frodo held the paper steady and Pippin dipped the brush into the nearest colour, black, and daubed it on the paper. Pippin frowned at that and Frodo washed his brush and turned the pallet a little. Pippin dipped again and added some blue to his picture. The little hobbit seemed to like that effect better and painted more blue making a sky across the top of the paper.  
  
"That's good Pip," Merry looked at what he'd done. "Do you want to put the sun in now?"  
  
Pippin nodded and Merry guided his hand to the yellow paint and Pippin managed a large yellow blobby sun on his own.  
  
"He used to paint quite nicely," Frodo observed sadly. "Let him do it on his own, perhaps it will come back in a minute."  
  
"He's probably a bit muddled, Master Frodo," Sam pointed out. "Look how he blinks all the time, like he wasn't really here."  
  
"Hello little hobbits, how's young Peregrin faring?" Gimli and Boromir had arrived with Icicle in tow unexpectedly and been ushered into the room by Deilen.  
  
"What is this you're doing?" asked Bormir rehetorically, sitting down on the edge of the bed to observe. Icicle went immediately to Pippin, and, after snuffling him all over to make certain he was safe, curled up in a corner and went to sleep.  
  
"Icicle is certainly acting odd." noted Aragorn with a hint of irony in his voice. "I certainly wish I could sleep so soundly after leaving others to care for my charges."  
  
Boromir chuckled. "Both she and I are weary. I have spent the morning trying to convince her that the fauna of the Golden Wood are not for warg fodder. Oh, Valar, but she is fast. The trees now are home to some very nervous squirrels."  
  
"Do you draw, Master Dwarf?" Legolas smiled, holding up his completed works of art, "or paint maybe?"  
  
"Aye," Gimli nodded taking up a pencil and paper. "I do a little. We dwarves learn it from our first apprenticeship in designing and forging precious metal. Gimli settled down on the floor between Sam and Merry and took a slate to lean his paper on. "Hold still Master Elf, I will attempt your likeness."  
  
The sketch Gimli made was fast and a remarkably good. "You have a keen eye and an accurate hand," Legolas looked at his drawing appreciatively. "This is excellent."  
  
"So what are you doing Pippin?" Bormir leaned over to look at the hobbit's efforts. "Oh dear," Bormir winced a little. They had left Pippin to get on with his painting and the little hobbit had discovered the red. His whole picture was now covered in red paint, obliterating everything he had done before.  
  
Frodo put his hand on Pippin's and he paused from his work to look up at his cousin. Pippin dropped the paintbrush as if in a panic. "Master?" he squeaked.  
  
"What? Pippin why did you call me that?"  
  
"What's wrong Master Frodo?" Sam asked. Suddenly the reason hit Frodo and Merry at the same time.  
  
"Sam, it's you." Frodo said, "You keep calling me 'Master', Pippin sees that as a bad and frightening word."  
  
"But it's not Pippin." Merry said gently. "Sam says it to Frodo in a nice way. Do you understand that?"  
  
Pippin shook his head, looking from one to the other fearfully.  
  
"Aragorn said we should try and teach Pippin his own name," Frodo remembered, "and teach him not to call him 'Master', I thought he was joking."  
  
Frodo squatted in front of Pippin again. "What's your name, little cousin? Come on tell Frodo."  
  
"P-Pippin, I'm Pippin." He looked anxiously at the others, wondering if he had got it right.  
  
"and who is this?" Frodo put his hands on Merry's shoulders.  
  
"Merry." Pippin answered.  
  
"and this?"  
  
"Sam."  
  
"That's very good Pippin." Frodo patted him on his shoulder gently.  
  
"Master?" Pippin looked anxiously at Frodo now. After hearing Sam call his cousin Master so many times he was becoming certain that was who he was.  
  
"No Pippin, Frodo! Remember? Your cousin Frodo."  
  
"Frodo, Master Frodo?" Pippin tried.  
  
"Come on Pippin you know better than that." Frodo said desperately.  
  
"Don't push him Frodo." Merry laid his hand gently on Frodo's shoulder, "He's doing much better than he was. He's still quite traumatized."  
  
"Do you remember, Mr Frodo," Sam piped up, "When we were talking about what to do, we thought Mr Pippin might like some singing."  
  
"What lullabies again?" Gimli asked, sounding as if he were about to make his excuses and leave.  
  
"No more like pub songs, we thought." Sam chimed in, "just to cheer him up a bit."  
  
"Pippin used to love to sing in the pub." Merry chuckled at the memory, "usually on the table with too much ale inside him."  
  
"What was his favourite?" Gimli asked with interest. "Dwarves are quite fond of ale carousing you know."  
  
"Really?" Legolas asked with a smile. "I had no idea you had a musical inclination."  
  
Merry had no hesitation. "He likes anything lively, he used to like to dance as well as sing."  
  
"Begging your pardon, Sirs," Sam put in shyly. "But what about 'The Keeper'?"  
  
"That's in two parts Sam," Merry said, "and it's sung by the Master and his servant. Do you think that might upset Pippin again?"  
  
"Well I chose it because it's got the word 'Master' in it." Sam explained, "and when Mr Strider said as how we had to teach Mr Pippin his name and all, I did some more words to it."  
  
"You'd better sing it then Sam," Frodo clapped him on the back. "Do you need any help?"  
  
"With the chorus, yes please." Sam knelt down in front of Pippin. "This song is for you Mr Pippin, out of my head. I hope you like it."  
  
Pippin looked at Sam with interest, his painting abandoned. Merry took a little pipe from his pocket and played the tune. Pippin perked up at the sound and watched as Sam and Frodo stood together in front of him and began to sing the verse and at the chorus, first Frodo and then the others joined in with the answers.  
  
The hobbit did a' scrumping go  
  
't weren't no one to bid him 'no'  
  
In the field where the mushrooms grow  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
The first mushroom he scrumped was bad  
  
The second one he gave to his dad  
  
The third mushroom 't weren't there to be had  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
Pippin lad? (Master)  
  
Sing ye well (Very well)  
  
Hey down (Ho down)  
  
derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
To my hey down down (To my ho down down)  
  
Hey down (Ho down)  
  
derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!  
  
The hobbit did adventuring go  
  
and under his cloak he carried a bow  
  
Said he'd be back in a month or so  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!  
  
The first adventure was most droll  
  
The second scared him into a hole  
  
The third one he got squished by a troll  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
Pippin lad? (Master)  
  
Sing ye well (Very well)  
  
Hey down (Ho down)  
  
derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
To my hey down down (To my ho down down)  
  
Hey down (Ho down)  
  
derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!  
  
The hobbit then came home again  
  
Over the mountain, across the plain  
  
Where he is now he will remain  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!  
  
Now that hobbit's tale is told  
  
He lives in The Shire just growing old  
  
Telling tales of dragon's gold  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!  
  
Sam stopped singing. Pippin was looking at him with a half smile. Merry had noticed too so he knelt down in front of the little hobbit and took his hand. Pippin didn't pull away or resist. "Come on Pippin, you sing the chorus now, you can it's easy."  
  
And Merry sang "Pippin lad?"  
  
They waited, a pause, then in a tiny voice Pippin sang rather than said. "Master"  
  
"Sing ye well?"  
  
Pippin stuttered it out "Ve-Very well"  
  
"Hey down"  
  
Pippin wasn't sure and Merry mouthed the words until finally he managed, "Ho down"  
  
Everyone sang, "derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o  
  
To my hey down down (To my ho down down)  
  
Hey down (Ho down)  
  
derry, derry down  
  
Among the leaves so green-o!"  
  
Pippin looked up at the three other hobbits. He found it hard to take in, they were all with him, him, and talking to him and singing to him. They even made a song about him, Pippin! Perhaps they did want him back. If only it hadn't happened.  
  
Pippin suddenly felt an enormous grief wash over him. For the first time he was looking at what he had lost, his dear, dear cousins and friends, just because of his own stupidity in dropping a stone. But they still forgave him, he felt terrible, he didn't deserve this.  
  
Pippin buried his head in his hands and wept as if his heart would break. Merry knelt beside him and gently enfolded his arms about his little cousin. For once Pippin didn't fight but clung to Merry and sobbed until it hurt. Merry kissed his hair and stroked his back whispering sweet nothings. "It's all right Pip, I'm here, it's all right."  
  
Deilen and Melystra came silently into the room and watched the little scene with knowing nods. The lady elf noticed Sam and Frodo's worried expressions. "This is good my friends," she whispered. "It is the first time he has really cried in grief rather than fear or confusion. He is beginning to wake up and know what has happened and he is experiencing the pain of loss."  
  
"Loss?" queried Frodo.  
  
"The loss of his precious innocence." Melystra explained. "It is very painful, but he has just taken the first step to becoming whole."  
  
***  
  
The Hobbit's Song © Samwise Gamgee S.R. 1419  
  
The tune for this old English song which is called The Keeper may be found here:  
  
http://www.chivalry.com/cantaria/lyrics/the_keeper.html 


	26. Scarred

Moria's Revenge, chapter 26: Scarred  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
Frodo's song in this chapter is sung to the tune of Kookaburra (that's the song, not the author) and is dedicated with love from Llinos to Kookaburra (that's the author, not the song.)  
  
(What I'm trying to say is this song is for our Kookaburra with love from me. Llinos.)  
  
A/N's: Ok, people, go get your tissues. I'm warning you.  
  
***  
  
Merry thought that Pippin would never stop crying but when he finally fell to just gentle hiccupping sobs, Merry lifted his cousin's face up and looked at him, searching for 'his Pippin' in grief-filled, sore eyes. "Hello my Pip," he whispered. "Are you back with me now?"  
  
Pippin nodded and buried his face again, still not ready to articulate details of the horrors that he had been through. His Merry was holding him close and for now that was enough. It was what he had longed for when the nightmare was at its worst and it was the one thing he believed could never happen again. And yet, here was Merry, his arms, his voice, his smell, his forgiveness, Merry must have forgiven him all the dreadful things he had done. Merry probably wouldn't even punish him either. He would never let Merry down again, whatever Merry wanted he would do, no matter what.  
  
"Come on Pippin," Merry drew him out again to face the world. "Dry your eyes and let's see if you can do some more painting."  
  
Slowly Pippin allowed himself to be unwound from his dear cousin and Merry propped him up once more with the pillows, making him comfortable and putting the paints close enough for him to reach easily. Merry put a clean sheet of paper ready and then sat on the floor next to Pip and started his own painting.  
  
The others were still drawing and painting, trying not to let Pip see that they too were anxious about his state or that the art class was especially for his benefit. Frodo had made a sketch of Icicle and showed it to Pippin who rewarded his cousin by holding the paper and looking at it carefully, looking over at Icicle still curled up in the corner and then back up at Frodo with a half smile.  
  
Boromir had painted a passable picture of Minas Tirith, he showed it to Pippin and Merry together. "This is the White City of Gondor, where I come from." He smiled as Merry held the paper in front of Pippin so he could see it clearly. "It is far more splendid than I have the ability to paint, but I hope one day you will see it in person."  
  
Pippin pointed to the highest white turret, "Do you live there?" he asked.  
  
"No." Boromir smiled. "But quite close by."  
  
Melystra and Deilen took Aragorn to one side. "That is a wonderful improvement," Melystra whispered and Deilen nodded agreement. "Pippin has actually taken note of two separate subjects not related to anything that happened to him."  
  
"Do you think he is actually coming out of shock at last?" Aragorn asked. "I was beginning to think he never would."  
  
"Yes," Deilen agreed, "He is taking note of his surroundings at last, which means he has a hope of recovery, although there is still much trauma for him to overcome."  
  
Legolas showed Pippin his paintings of woodland scenes and smiled as the hobbit ran his fingers over the paper trying to feel the texture of the artwork and frowning a little as he found nothing but a flat surface. He whispered to Merry, "Why can't I feel the trees?"  
  
"It looks as if you could," Merry agreed. Legolas's picture had great depth and perspective. "But it's just a picture Pip, it's not real."  
  
"Not real." Pippin echoed. "Not real."  
  
Pippin looked carefully at Sam's painting and then at Gimli's realistic sketches of other members of the Fellowship. These in particular fascinated him; they were so realistic and lifelike. However, with Boromir and Aragorn, the dwarf had absent-mindedly sketched in from memory their longer hair and beards. Pippin examined these and then looked up at the two men. He shook his head in some confusion. The pictures were the men of his nightmares, but the men he could see now were different somehow. He pointed to the two pictures and asked Merry, "Are those real?"  
  
Merry looked at the pictures in puzzlement for a while then he realised what was confusing Pippin. "Gimli you gave Aragorn and Boromir their beards back."  
  
"They seemed strange without," Gimli admitted, "My mind was playing tricks with my perception."  
  
Pippin looked at Gimli and blinked at his words, then looked back at the pictures and pointed to Aragorn. "That's Master?" He said as a query.  
  
"No Pippin," Merry said gently, "It's Strider, remember Aragorn, Strider who brought us from Bree to Rivendell and has been with us all through the journey since then."  
  
"Strider, yes." Pippin repeated frowning slightly at the confused memory. Then Pippin lit on another of Gimli's sketches, it was of him. But the dwarf had drawn an earlier version of the hobbit, before he had been kidnapped. There were no bruises in evidence; no cuts or abrasions, his hair was still long and curly; he was dressed in his travelling clothes, complete with scarf and he stood upright on his fur-covered feet, looking back at Pippin with his former happy smile.  
  
Pippin held this picture for a long time gazing at it with his brow furrowed as if confused by the image. Merry touched the sketch lightly, "It's you Pip, can you see? It's you." Pippin shook his head slowly and put the picture down beside him rather than giving it back to Gimli, not accepting the image, but not prepared to relinquish it either.  
  
"Come on Pippin," Merry did not want him to get caught in a downward spiral of despair again, best to keep him distracted Melystra had said. "Do you want to try some more painting?" He put the paintbrush back in Pippin's hand and held it as he dipped it into the yellow paint. Then he pushed the blank paper back towards Pippin again, but Pippin was still interested in Gimli's sketch. He took the drawing again and set it on the ground before him and then very carefully with the yellow paint he wrote 'Pip' underneath it.  
  
Merry looked at his handiwork and smiled at him happily. "That's right Pip, very good, do you want to do some more?"  
  
Pippin nodded and Gimli, who had been watching this performance, took all the sketches he had made and set them before the little hobbit. Pippin carefully selected the picture of Merry first, and with great care, dipping the brush back into the paint frequently, painted the name "Merry" at the foot of the page. This was followed by Sam and then Legolas, which he spelt 'Leglas', but it did not really matter.  
  
Merry chose the next sketch and set the picture of Aragorn before Pip. He looked at the picture and back at Merry. Merry nodded enthusiastically and decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction. "It's Strider, remember? Strider."  
  
Pippin paused, then reached out for the blue paint and daubed the word 'Stryder' across the bottom of the picture. Merry and Gimli were both very pleased with him and Pippin was a little overcome with their praise. "Can I borrow this Pippin?" Merry asked taking the picture up. I want to show it to Strider. Pippin nodded and Merry trotted off to find the ranger who was talking in the other room with Deilen and Melystra.  
  
Gimli refilled some of the water jars, chatting to Legolas about their artistic talents as he did so. "I believe the elves, certainly if your talent is any measure, have more of a feel for painting." Gimli suggested. "It is less technical and more heartfelt."  
  
"I would not dispute that Master Gimli," Legolas agreed. "Dwarves I suppose learn to paint realistically as you use it as more of a tool of design than as an aesthetic expression in its own right. Although your sketches of the Fellowship do show a certain amount of interpretation."  
  
"Look Aragorn!" Merry presented the picture to the ranger to inspect. "Pippin was writing the names on Gimli's sketches and he wrote this on your picture.  
  
Aragorn laughed out loud at the result. "That is excellent Merry. Did you encourage him to do this?"  
  
"No he just started to do it on his own." Merry said excitedly, "and he's still saying a few words about things and nodding and shaking his head."  
  
"That's very good Merry." Aragorn agreed. "How about pictures? Did he draw anything yet?"  
  
"He's not."  
  
Merry's reply halted as he heard an aggrieved sigh from the other room. "Oh Pippin, why did you do that?"  
  
Boromir was stooped before the little hobbit and Sam and Frodo had joined him. Merry was at his side in a heartbeat, looking to see what he had done.  
  
Pippin had taken the sketch of himself, the one that he had written 'Pip' on in yellow paint and had daubed black and red smudges all over the drawing, stabbing at the picture with the paintbrush and making large 'X's all over his face. Merry took the brush from him gently. "Never mind Pip, you don't have to paint if you don't want to." Pippin scowled and shoved his fingers into the red paint and slapped it onto his own face dragging his fingers down his cheeks with his teeth clenched in frustration.  
  
"Oh, Pip, please stop!" begged Frodo as he tried ot catch hold over the stained hands.  
  
Melystra had followed the others into the room and looked to see the results of Pippin latest demonstration of self-loathing. She knew he had to work through this before he could start to heal properly. But it was necessary to make that passage as gentle as possible.  
  
Melystra took a damp cloth and wiped the paint from Pippin's hands and his face and smiled at him kindly. "Do you want to paint some more Pippin?" The hobbit nodded slowly. "Very well," the elf said sweetly, "you must use the brush. Do you understand?" Once more Pippin nodded.  
  
Pippin took up the black brush again, and returned his attention to his red painting. There was still a strip of blue at the top, and between the blue and the red, Pippin made long, angular, black marks. Merry scowled as he tried to fathom what Pippin could possibly be trying to convey. Each mark appeared to be an arrowhead, pointing upwards, with many little marks tracing down from the apex. When Pippin had done a whole line across the top of his paper, he wet down his brush again to dilute the black.  
  
"Pippin, love, what are you painting?" Merry asked. But Pippin only frowned and made a small noise in the back of his throat and washed the pale black in a strip along the bottom of the paper. Sprouting up from it, tall shapes emerged. But what were they? Columns? Trees? Merry couldn't tell. Frodo sidled up to Pippin and looked at the paper. Pippin was now adding smaller blobs on the top of the tall ones.  
  
"Oh, Pippin!" Frodo cried softly. Pippin now started to shake and quiver with suppressed sobs as tears smudged the picture.  
  
"What is it Frodo?" Merry was frantic with the need to know what his Pip was painting and why Frodo had reacted the way he had. "What's Pippin making? I can't tell!"  
  
"It's..." Frodo's voice caught. "Don't you see? These," he pointed to the black arrows at the top of the page, "are mountains. This red field must be under them. And, and..." he gestured to the tall black figures. 'Figures.' Merry realised.  
  
".are orcs." Merry finished for Frodo. Then, "Pippin, breathe!" He shouted.  
  
The little hobbit had been staring at his own creation, his breaths coming faster and faster as he remembered the tall, shadowy figures when they had crowded around him. He had been so alone, so hurt, and so frightened. How he smothered under them, and even the foul air of the mines had felt sweeter than the air of the Shire when he was finally allowed a breath. His head started to feel muzzy again, and he could not get enough air, no matter how fast he inhaled. The room started to swim.  
  
"Strider!" Frodo called, frantic for his cousin. Pippin was starting to turn hideously pale from hyperventilation. Merry was holding Pippin as tight as he dared, stroking the curls, and trying to calm him. Aragorn was at Pippin's side in an instant. He lifted Pippin from Merry and held him close, sitting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Easy, little one, shhh, calm down. There's nothing here to hurt you, you're safe, shhh...slowly now, listen to my breathing." Aragorn held Pippin to his chest. "In, and out, slowly, in, and out...that's a good hobbit..." Eventually Pippin's breaths slowed, and his head cleared, though it hurt quite a bit.  
  
"I-I'm sorry, Pip." Frodo said quietly to the shaking lump under Aragorn's arm. "I thought you would like to paint..."  
  
"It is all right, Frodo." Melystra's hand squeezed his shoulder. "This is good for Pippin. He is expressing himself, even if it is not with words. He has made tremendous progress."  
  
As Pippin calmed, Aragorn sat him up on his lap, stroking the hobbit's short curls. Pippin sniffled and began to wipe at his eyes and nose. Melystra immediately held out a clean handkerchief to Aragorn, who took in gratefully and mopped up Pippin. The halfling's newly freed hands rubbed at himself vigorously, to the extent that Aragorn worried he would do his newly dressed injuries harm.  
  
"Here, Pippin." the ranger tried to still Pippin's hands. "What is the matter? Why are you doing this? Do you hurt anywhere?" Pippin glanced up at Aragorn, turned pink, and hung his head. Aragorn lifted the drooping chin. "Come, now Pippin. Tell me what you want. Pippin frowned at him, and made an impatient noise, holding himself tightly. "Pippin, if you want something, you must tell it to us. We can't read your mind." Aragorn tapped Pippin's temple gently. Pippin dropped his head again, and mumbled something Aragorn could not make out. "What was that Pippin?"  
  
"I could hear him.". Merry said. "He wants a wash."  
  
"That's a good idea," Melystra agreed placating the little hobbit. "You can have a bath if you like Pippin. Your wound is healed enough." She turned to the others who were beginning to clear away their painting equipment. "Perhaps we'd better give Pippin some quiet now."  
  
"Of course, Melystra," Legolas pinned the more appropriate paintings to the wall where Pip could see them, especially those of the fellowship that he had written names on. "We'll leave you in peace to bathe the little one."  
  
"Just call if you need anything." Gimli added as he washed out the paint jars and stacked them away. He then collected Icicle from her corner and, attaching the leash, led her firmly from the room. She had come to associate the dwarf with gustatory delights, and followed willingly.  
  
Melystra asked the attendants to fill the bath and as soon as the others had left, leaving her with just Aragorn and Merry to help bathe Pippin, she laid towels and soap beside the slipper bath, which would be small for a man or an elf, but enormous for a hobbit. Aragorn gave Pippin his finger again and indicated for Merry to do the same and together they walked Pippin, very slowly to the bath and let him sink down again beside it, exhausted by the effort.  
  
"Why do we make him walk, Aragorn?" Merry whispered. It seemed strange to him since Aragorn could so easily have carried him.  
  
"It is good for him to move a little more," Aragorn started to undress Pippin, carefully pulling the nightshirt up and over his head. "It is good for the circulation of the blood."  
  
Melystra immediately placed a towel over the hobbit, realising at once that he did not want to feel so naked. "Don't worry Pippin the water will make you feel clean, although you are already after so much scrubbing," she added. "I'm going to put some healing oils in the water and they smell nice too. Nothing harsh." She felt the water to make sure the temperature was right, then, with Aragorn's help, they began to peel off the bandages.  
  
Merry was sitting on the ground beside Pippin, holding his hand still. The older hobbit had not yet witnessed first hand the actual injuries inflicted on his cousin, the worst damage had always been concealed beneath bandages or clothing. As the wrappings were removed Merry started to breathe a little more sharply and he felt his head begin to swim. It did not seem possible for one little mite like his seemingly delicate baby cousin to have sustained such abuse and lived.  
  
As the last bandage fell away Aragorn lifted Pippin, cradling him under his arms and legs and gently lowered him into the water. "Here Pippin do you want this?" Melystra gave him a soft washcloth to hold and even though he started to rub at his arm with it, the cloth was not abrasive enough to do any damage.  
  
Merry stood now and held onto the top of the bath watching Pippin in speechless horror at the stunning reality of seeing just what had been perpetrated on his small body. But there was worse to come.  
  
Aragorn watched as Melystra soaped Pippin with another cloth, preferring not to handle him overmuch while a female was available to tend to him. They both felt Melystra's ministrations were less threatening in the hobbit's present state. But with her hands full she nodded for the ranger to turn him over. As Aragorn rolled Pippin onto his belly, holding his chin up above the water, Merry caught sight for the first time of Pippin's back and backside. There was virtually not a piece of skin left white. The whole area was one big purple, yellow and black bruise and that was crisscrossed with whiplashes, which had cut into his fragile body again and again. On top of that were the hideous burns that had been inflicted with the poker. And Pippin's backside looked ruptured and distended to an impossible. 'no it's too terrible. too evil to behold. it can't be. not to my Pippin.. no.'  
  
Aragorn and Melystra looked up in startled surprise at the sudden thumping noise. Merry lay unconscious on the floor.  
  
Aragorn kept Pippin distracted while Melystra quickly went to his side and lifted up his head. "I think he's just fainted." She whispered to Aragorn. "Merry? Merry?" She patted his cheek trying to get a reaction, but the hobbit's brain had just shut down in response to his inability to cope with the evidence of his own eyes. "Deilen," she called softly. "Could you come here?"  
  
The elf looked around the door of the bathing room and at once saw the problem. He came over to Merry and lifted his wrist to feel his pulse. "I think it is just a faint." Melystra whispered. "But you had better take him and ensure he is well. Perhaps he should have a proper rest away from here for the night."  
  
"Yes," Deilen agreed. "He is probably overstressed. I will send one of the other periain up to keep the little one company." He lifted Merry up, cradling him against his chest, and carried him out into the fresh air of the Golden Wood to recover.  
  
****  
  
Merry gradually came round as Deilen was carrying him down the stairs and began to struggle a little when he realised he was being carried away from Pippin. "No I have to go back, I need to stay with Pippin. What happened, what did I do?"  
  
"Relax Merry," Deilen held him firmly. "You passed out, probably because you were tired. Now lie still, Pippin is perfectly safe with Aragorn and Melystra."  
  
"But he needs me." Merry's eyes were wide open now and he was on the verge of panic at being separated from his cousin again, especially after what he had seen. He wanted to rush back and put his arms around him and never leave his side again.  
  
"Not in this state he doesn't Merry." Deilen counselled. "He needs you whole and well, now you must get some proper rest tonight and I will send one of the other periain up to watch over him. Your cousin Frodo will be happy to look after him for one night I'm sure." Deilen set Merry on his feet again and held his hand to guide him the rest of the way down.  
  
When they reached the ground they discovered Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Boromir and Gimli all making a combined effort to milk Icicle and failing dismally. The warg either lay obstinately down so they could not reach her milk or growled warningly at them.  
  
"Come Merry," Legolas asked, "she'll let you I'm sure."  
  
Merry wearily took the bowl and, to the amazement of the others got down on all fours and snuggled into Icicle's side. The warg immediately rolled on to her side giving Merry access to her precious milk and, after a few moments of nursing, allowed him to fill the bowl.  
  
In the meantime Deilen spoke quietly to the others. "Merry passed out just now. I think it would be best if he stays down here tonight and if one of the other periain take his place."  
  
"I'll sit with Pippin." Frodo immediately volunteered. "Merry needs a rest, he looks very weary."  
  
"And I'll look after Mr Merry." Sam offered. "Make sure he gets a bite to eat and some proper sleep."  
  
****  
  
Pippin was turned back over and during the distraction caused by Merry fainting had managed to get hold of the soap and was rubbing it frantically into his skin again when Aragorn realised what he was doing and took it gently from him and gave him the soft washcloth again. "Gently Pippin," he advised, "you don't need to rub so hard."  
  
Pippin looked up and suddenly caught sight of Merry being carried from the room, his eyes flew wide and he grabbed at Aragorn's arm in panic. "Merry! No come back! Merry!"  
  
"It's all right Pippin." Aragorn made his voice sound light. "Merry is coming back, he's just very tired and he fell asleep. Don't worry, he's just sleeping."  
  
"Just sleeping?" Pippin echoed looking worriedly at Aragorn. "Sleeping? Merry's sleeping?"  
  
"Yes," Aragorn repeated firmly, "Merry's just sleeping."  
  
It took a long time to coax Pippin out of the bath. He wanted to remain in the water scrubbing at himself long after the water had turned cold and was becoming uncomfortable. "Come on Pippin, are you going to let me take you out now?" Aragorn asked. He did not want to force the hobbit to relinquish his obsessive washing but he was beginning to think he might soon have to.  
  
Finally Pippin started to tire and Melystra wrapped him in a large towel as Aragorn lifted him from the bath. They carefully redressed the wounds once he was dry and Melystra clad him in a clean nightgown.  
  
When this was done Aragorn drew out his warm wool socks. Pippin looked up at him with his brow furled in puzzlement.  
  
"These are for your feet, Pippin." Aragorn said. Pippin looked at them again, and shook his head, tucking his feet under his body and sitting on them. Aragorn looked up at the celing and prayed to the Valar for patience.  
  
"Why don't you want socks, dear Pippin?" asked Melystra kindly. Pippin just shook his head again and looked at the ground, then slowly and reluctantly stuck his feet out in front of him.  
  
Pippin had tried not to think of his ugly, shaved feet. He missed the soft curls and the warmth they gave. The others must think his feet hideous as well, and that was why they wanted to cover them so they would not have to look. A tear rolled down his cheek.  
  
"Oh, Pippin," Aragorn said after noticing this. "what wrong?" He drew Pippin into his lap and held the small body close. "Why don't you want the socks? They are nice and warm, you must feel very chilly with no fur to protect your feet."  
  
Pippin nodded minutely. "No fur," said in a meek voice. "so ugly...no hair..." Here his voice broke and he grabbed his shorn head in his hands and sbegan to weep silently.  
  
"Oh, dear heart," cooed Melystra, "You could never look anything less than adorable. Di you know why we had to cut your hair?"  
  
Pippin nodded again. At the elf's raised eyebrow he whispered, "B-beacuse, because...I...lay with orcs...and that's what happens to...wh-wh-whores when p-people find out..." Pippin's voice trailed into a squeak.  
  
"Oh, Pippin!" Aragorn breathed, hugging him close. He looked up at Melystra with pain-filled eyes. "Is that what you've been thinking? Poor little Pippin." He rocked and soothed the hobbit until Pippin had calmed enough to be coherent. "We had to get rid of the lice and fleas, little one, that's why. Not because of...that. You are NOT a whore, no matter what those horrible orcs told you!"  
  
"N-not a whore?" Asked Pippin with wide eyes, scarcely daring to believe it.  
  
Aragorn smiled at him through tears. "No, Pip. You are not. You never were." Pippin smiled and grabbed a handful of Aragorn's shirt, pressed into his chest and promtly fell asleep.  
  
"Well," whispered Melystra softly, "let's put on the socks, and hope that he does not wake up." Aragorn nodded.  
  
As it turned out, Pippin did wake up, and Aragorn came to the conclusion that no task in Middle Earth was as trying as attemting to put socks on a wriggly, slippery hobbit.  
  
When they finally were on, Aragorn carried him back to the bedchamber and put Pippin in the bed, where the halfling sat staring at his covered feet and wiggling his toes. Strider was preparing to sit watch himself when Frodo arrived. He brought with him the bowl of milk from Icicle, who had also trotted up at the hobbit's heels. It was as if she were intelligent enough to know that they had taken her milk and she wanted to find out what they were doing with it.  
  
As soon as the warg was aware of Pippin she jumped up on the bed and nudged him with her nose, sinking down next to him. She whined at the socks a bit, but made no attempt to take them off. Pippin immediately tried to latch onto her, but Aragorn slipped his hand under Pippin's head and pulled him away gently. He then caught hold of Icicle's collar and urged her up and off the bed. She growled at him, but finally conceded to his control.  
  
Aragorn walked her to the adjoining chamber and took a strong leather thong to make a leash and tied her to a table leg.  
  
"Umumum?" Pippin complained as the ranger came back into the room.  
  
"Not tonight Pippin," Aragorn said softly. What he actually meant was 'not any more'. He had discussed with the healer elves and they all agreed it was time to wean Pippin off the warg, certainly from nursing at her teat. "She's given you some milk to drink instead."  
  
Frodo poured some of the warg's milk into a cup and, after Aragorn lifted him up onto the bed, the older hobbit pretended to drink from the cup and then held it for Pippin until he tipped it up and drank the milk.  
  
Pippin had no difficulty in digesting Icicle's milk and drank the whole bowlful in no time at all, although he would have preferred to have had it warm straight from the warg as he missed her ministrations as much as her warm milk. Once he had finished drinking the milk, Pippin started to suck on his thumb, a childhood habit which he suddenly felt the need for now that he couldn't have Umumum.  
  
"Will you be all right Frodo," Aragorn asked, "Melystra is resting at the moment and will be back in a few hours but Deilen is in the next room."  
  
"Yes, you go Aragorn," Frodo smiled as he scrunched up against the headboard in the way he had seen Merry do. "I'll watch Pip, we'll be perfectly safe, especially with Icicle outside."  
  
Icicle was setting up a constant whiney cry, as she wanted to be with her cub. But she was going to have to manage without for now. However Aragorn did not want to separate them completely as that might make her milk dry up and they still needed her supply at the moment.  
  
As the ranger left Frodo could see Pippin was agitated and not likely to sleep in the near future. He probably needed to entertain him in some way. Story telling, which worked well with Pip when he was little didn't seem quite appropriate now. All the stories he liked had been gruesome and scary, 'No,' Frodo decided, 'definitely not appropriate now.'  
  
"Merry?" Pippin enquired looking hopefully at Frodo. "Umumum?" he tried looking towards the door.  
  
"Sorry, Pip, I'm afraid you're stuck with me tonight." Frodo smiled at him and reached out his hand hoping Pippin would take it. He just looked at the hand and then up at Frodo but made no move to make contact with Frodo.  
  
"Come on, little Pip," Frodo whispered, "It's me, cousin Frodo, I'm just a hobbit like you."  
  
"Hobbit, like you." Pippin echoed. He had started doing that Frodo thought, all day today, repeating what was said to him.  
  
"Yes you're a hobbit." Frodo said, "and I'm a hobbit."  
  
Pippin looked towards the door. "Umumum?" he said.  
  
Frodo wasn't sure what he meant but answered. "No Umumum is not a hobbit, she's a warg."  
  
Pippin thought about this for a moment and then pointed to the picture of Legolas on the wall. "Hobbit?" he asked.  
  
"No Pip, you know he's not. Legolas is an elf."  
  
"An elf." Pippin said. He was actually smiling a little now and Frodo had the distinct feeling, much to his delight, that Pippin might be teasing him.  
  
He pointed at Gimli's picture. "Hobbit?" He said.  
  
"Dwarf." Frodo answered.  
  
Then he pointed to one of the other pictures that Legolas had pinned up. It was a fine painting of a green woodpecker. "Hobbit?" Pippin said almost giggling now.  
  
That gave Frodo an idea. He suddenly remembered an old childhood song they had both sung in their time, about a woodpecker sitting on a tree in the wood and laughing. He pointed to the picture and sang the song.  
  
Woodpecker sits in the forest tree  
  
Happy, happy king of the woods is he  
  
Laugh Yaffle yaffle, laugh yaffle yaffle  
  
Gay your life must be!  
  
  
  
Pippin laughed and clapped his hands at the song. Then he pointed to the picture of Legolas again and said, "Elf. . . Elf lives?"  
  
Frodo frowned a little as he thought. But he could make up silly little songs quickly and sang:  
  
The elf he lives in a mallorn tree  
  
Deep in the woods is where he'll be  
  
There he belongs, singing pretty songs  
  
A happy one is he  
  
Pippin smiled broadly at this verse, and then pointed at Gimli. "Dwarf lives?"  
  
Frodo hummed and haa'd for a few moments then sang:  
  
Dwarf he lives in deep dark cave  
  
With all mithril he can crave  
  
Walls are drizzly, his beard all grizzly  
  
His face is stern and grave.  
  
Pippin at last giggled at this verse. He insisted on hearing it again. Then he pointed at the picture of Boromir and said, "Man lives?"  
  
The big man lives in a busy town  
  
Striding round with an angry frown  
  
wearing dirty shoes, supping evil booze  
  
His sorrows just to drown.  
  
  
  
Pippin was chortling by now. He had always enjoyed Frodo's storytelling and song making and for this moment he was thoroughly distracted by his entertaining cousin. Frodo had given him the pile of paintings that had not been pinned up and Pippin leafed through them, looking for an image he liked. He found Merry's painting of Smaug.  
  
"Dragon lives?" He requested.  
  
Dragon sits on a pile of gold  
  
Thinks he's very brave and bold  
  
Old lizard skin, with a double chin  
  
Far too fat and old.  
  
Pippin got a bit adventurous with his next picture. He found a drawing Legolas had made for Gimli, showing him the spiders of Mirkwood. Pippin gave a little shiver as he said, "spider lives?"  
  
Spider sits in a big fat loom  
  
Filled with venom and with gloom  
  
Old attercop, big belly flop  
  
Prepare to meet your doom?  
  
Pippin liked the idea of the bad spider meeting its doom and grew braver still, pulling out a picture of a troll. "Troll lives?"  
  
Troll he lives in the mountain high  
  
Big enough to touch the sky  
  
don't you suppose, he can touch his toes  
  
Or he'd even try  
  
Suddenly Pippin came to the frightening picture he had made. No one had destroyed it and Frodo and Pippin both stared at the black orc shapes on the red background. But Frodo wasn't about to let the happy mood slip away. He took the picture and said to Pippin, "Goblin lives?" Pippin nodded nervously.  
  
Goblin lives in dungeon cell  
  
Where there's a really nasty smell  
  
Warts on his nose, down to his toes  
  
Bet his life is hell  
  
Pippin didn't exactly laugh at this one, but they put the painting aside and moved on. Then, perhaps even more poignantly, they found a sketch he, Frodo had made from memory of Gandalf. The little hobbit held it up sadly, "Wizard lives?" he asked. Frodo moved closer now and Pippin allowed the squeeze his big cousin gave his shoulders. He sang:  
  
Wizard he lives anywhere  
  
On the ground or in the air  
  
He comes and goes, when nobody knows  
  
That's when he'll be there.  
  
  
  
"Come on Pippin, you need to go to sleep soon, I know I do." The little hobbit had yawned once or twice but wanted the fun to continue.  
  
"One more? He pleaded. Hobbit lives?"  
  
"Of course," Frodo laughed, "we have to have hobbit lives?" He sang:  
  
Hobbit lives in a hole in the ground  
  
A big front door that's oh so round  
  
What can he need? Ale, cakes and weed  
  
Very safe and sound  
  
Pippin gave a contented smile at this last verse as he curled up on the bed with his thumb in his mouth again. Frodo pulled the coverlet over him and tucked him in securely.  
  
Deilen put his head round the door just then and saw that the two hobbits were playing happily and that Pippin looked content. He whispered to Frodo, "Are you two all right? I just need to go down to make sure Merry is recovered."  
  
"Yes, we'll be safe on our own for a while." Frodo assured him as he settled into a woven chair in the corner. "Pippin is nearly asleep now."  
  
Frodo's eyes felt heavier and heavier. Pippin had finally dozed off, and Icicle was quiet except for a few whines now and then. As he listened to Pippin's steady breathing, Frodo's own breath slowed and he drifted off to sleep.  
  
Long fingers grasped the windowsill. Two gleaming eyes took in the two slumbering hobbits.  
  
"My Precssioussss..." Gollum hissed softly as he pulled himself up to perch on the window ledge. The aura of elves was almost unbearable, but the lust for the Ring was greater. Like a shadow he slipped into the room.  
  
Icicle jerked awake. She could feel it. Danger! An unfamiliar smell was creeping from under the door, the door where her cub was! She whined a bit louder, and jerked at the leash that bound her.  
  
Oblivious to any danger Frodo slept on, though his dreams were troubled. He could see the Ring, like a wheel of fire, while it called his name softly.  
  
"Baggins..."  
  
"Bagginssssss...we hatesss him, nasssty hobbitesesss..." Gollum whispered as he crawled around the edge of the room. His Precious was near. He could feel it. Every sense was tuned to it. He reached for Frodo's neck.  
  
Icicle was beside herself. She gnawed frantically at the leather belt, but this one was tougher than the one the dark two-legger had first tied her with.  
  
Frodo woke to cold, clammy fingers around his throat, and a foul hand over his mouth.  
  
Gollum squeezed as hard as he could, hissing in Frodo's ear. "Nasssssty Bagginssss...they stole our Precssiousss, and WE WANTSSS IT!" Frodo jerked back, knocking over the chair. Both tumbled to the ground, but Gollum did not relinquish his hold on Frodo. Frodo brought his hands up trying desperately to loose the hand that was cutting off his air. He thought about Sting, safe on the ground by his pack.  
  
Gollum released Frodo's mouth, and groped about on his chest. The thought that Gollum was going to try and take the Ring sent Frodo an increased burst of strength, even as his vision was clouding from lack of air. He grabbed Gollum's wrist in a grip like iron, and twisted.  
  
Icicle was nearly exhausted, but gathered herself for one last bid for freedom, barking madly, she threw her entire weight against the leash. The chewed sinew snapped, her momentum carrying her across the small chamber and against the door. It shuddered with her onslaught as she rammed against it, determined to get at whatever was threatening her cub.  
  
Pippin awoke with a start. Umummmum was making lots of noise. Why? He heard a thud and a crash from across the room. Frodo was rolling around on the floor and had knocked over a tray with many glasses on it. The shards skittered around the room as Frodo thrashed in them. And there was a shadow that clung to Frodo's back.  
  
"GIVESESS IT TO USSSS!" was hissed loudly. Pippin tried to scream, but no sound left his throat. He sat up his eyes wide with terror, clutching his scarf to his face.  
  
Down on the ground Haldir stopped and looked up at the infirmary flets high above. His elven hearing caught the sounds of a commotion, mingled with feral growls. 'The Lady will have my hide if anything has happened to the perian.' He ran as fast as he could up the winding staircase, loosing his bow as he did so.  
  
The door groaned and buckled as Icicle's growls and leaps increased in intensity.  
  
Frodo's struggles were slowing. He could not see anymore, his shoulder was one large ball of fire where Gollum had bitten, sending sprays of blood everywhere as the deformed creature tore at the hobbit's flesh ruthlessly. Complete darkness fell and Frodo knew no more.  
  
Sam was just coming to one of the 'crossroads' in the trees,as he called them, bearing a tray of tea and cakes for a late night repast for his master, when the elf he recognised as Haldir raced by.  
  
"What..." Sam began.  
  
"Hurry!" Yelled Haldir, already on the spiral one level above. "Something is attacking in the sickbay!" Sam dropped the tray and barged after Haldir, cursing himself for leaving Frodo alone, even if it was to care for Merry.  
  
Greedy fingers tore at Frodo's shirt, eager to expose the prize. At the same moment the door, which had held Icicle, splintered as she bounded into the room. Gollum had no time to even screech before she bowled him off of Frodo. Standing over the fallen hobbit, she snarled, opening her mouth wide to reveal long fangs. Gollum righted himself and sprang back at her, trying to get behind so he could choke the life from the body that was between him and Precious.  
  
Pippin sat trembling on the bed his eyes on poor Frodo and now Umumum, she was snarling at the scaring thing, fighting with it. It might try to hurt her. The little hobbit whimpered over and over, "Umumum! Frodo! Umumum! Frodo!"  
  
The two combatants fought with ferocity. Frodo's frame was knocked to and fro as they duelled. Growling and snarling, Icicle managed to get the fight away from Frodo, knocking over several more pieces of furniture. A stuffed chair was ripped shreds as Gollum sought to climb it, and Icicle's claws found purchase.  
  
Haldir could now hear more crashing and barks, he was taking the steps three at a time, cursing the Valar for not giving elves wings. Only three more spirals to go.  
  
Sam puffed several levels behind him. Even he could now hear the sounds of battle.  
  
Icicle grabbed the creature's leg and dragged him to the floor, biting harder as blood flowed into her mouth. Gollum's strong fingers grabbed her muzzle in a vice-like grip, forcing her to release him.  
  
This new white demon was much more than Gollum had bargained for. He had waited for years for Precious, he could wait a little longer. He barely made it out the window before Icicle pounced.  
  
Picking her way though the upturned furniture and shards of glass, Icicle approached Frodo. She nuzzled him with her bloodied nose, whining at the spreading pool of slick blood.  
  
Pippin still sat on the bed watching the scene, frozen in terror as he rocked to and fro clutching his precious scarf.  
  
Haldir reached the infirmary door, and charged in. The chamber was wrecked, blood was everywhere, and the warg was standing over the hobbit the Lady had told him could save Middle Earth, soaked in Frodo's blood, leaning in for the kill.  
  
In less than a heartbeat one of his arrows was sailing through the air. The leader of the Galadhrim's bow never missed. It stuck Icicle behind her elbow, burying itself in her heart.  
  
Pippin finally found his lungs and gave a heart-rending wail as he saw his Umumum slump to the ground. He crawled to the edge of the bed and flung himself to the floor scrambling over to lie on the warg's still body. Pippin nuzzled his head into Icicle's belly, pushing against her trying to make her respond, but his precious nurse, his one comfort in his nightmare, his darling Umumum was gone.  
  
Haldir tried to reach forward and lift the little hobbit off the dead warg, Pippin turned with a snarl and bit the elf's hand, then threw himself back onto Icicle's lifeless belly, weeping and sobbing as if his heart were at last truly broken.  
  
***  
  
TBC... 


	27. Discovered

Moria's Revenge, chapter 27: Discovered  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
***  
  
Haldir clutched his hand, and edged around Pippin to Frodo's still form. The perian was not breathing. Haldir jumped up and tore into the other room, where a rope hung from a belfry, used to call in healers when an emergency struck. 'What sort of infirmary has not a single medic in sight?' He asked himself. Just before he threw all of his weight on the rope to sound the alarm, "MISTER FRODO!" was sobbed from the other room.  
  
Sam came through the doorway just as Haldir disappeared. After a bare moment of shock, taking in the whole scene of chaos, of Icicle prone on the floor and Pippin sobbing on her belly, he spotted the curly mop of dark brown hair peeking out from under some splintered pieces of furniture.  
  
"Oh, Mister Frodo..." Sam threw himself down at his master's side and realised at once that he was not breathing. Frodo's lips were a horrible blue. Sam took Frodo's still warm hand, bent over it and let out an anguished wail, weeping his heart out, and wishing he had never left his side.  
  
Haldir leaned on the bell-rope, willing it to clang louder. After half a minute, he knew that all of the elves of the Golden wood must have heard it, so he raced back into the wrecked chamber just as Sam wailed a second time.  
  
Tears were streaming down Sam's face, and his own chest ached with the exertion it took to keep from going hysterical. Sam could see the damage done to Frodo's throat, and he could only pray that his airway had not been crushed. The little gardener also looked anxiously over at Pippin, wishing frantically that someone else would come. Poor Icicle wasn't moving and Pippin was distraught, but Sam dare not leave Frodo.  
  
Suddenly Haldir shouldered him aside, and started to manipulate Frodo's head, opening his mouth and tilting his chin back.  
  
"Don't you hurt him!" Sam yelled helplessly, as he was too weak with grief to protest. Haldir ignored him and started to push down rhythmically on Frodo's still chest. "What..." Sam began.  
  
"I," Haldir retorted in between pumps, "...am breathing...for...your friend." and with that, he stopped pumping and fastened his own mouth over Frodo's, exhaling. Frodo's chest swelled, but he still was not breathing on his own. After several breaths, Haldir returned to pounding on the Ring bearer's chest. Then he quickly grabbed both Sam's hands and pressed them into Frodo's chest and said urgently, "push here, up and down, keep doing it." With that he placed his mouth over Frodo's again and continued breathing for him.  
  
****  
  
Legolas was taking a leisurely walk with Gimli through the labyrinthine staircases and walkways that crisscrossed the golden wood when the alarm bell sounded.  
  
Gimli jumped at the abrasive clanging. It was quite close. "Dragon's Breath!" he swore, "What is that about? I thought you elves liked quiet."  
  
"It is an alarm knell. And it is coming from..." Legolas turned about to locate the source. "The infirmary." his eyes met Gimli's for an instant, and then both were racing up the stairs and over gangways towards where they had left Pippin.  
  
****  
  
Aragorn and Boromir were carefully picking their way through mounds of rubble. Piece by piece they removed sections of wood, cautious not to make the pile move suddenly or start any more movement. Groans from over stressed beams of wood mingled with the moans of the injured. One of the high talans had given way minutes before, and thankfully they were going with Silael at that moment to the kitchens, which were right by the accident, to procure some food for a late supper for Merry. Deilen had just left them and was on his way back to Pippin when the sound of the crash alerted him and he ran back.  
  
Boromir was lifting a solid beam from off of an unconscious elf, who he hoped was still alive as a loud ringing sounded through the forest.  
  
"This is good!" cried Silael, who was marshalling the elves that had come running at the sound of the crash into rescue groups. "Some one is sounding the alarm! More healers will come to aid us!"  
  
Although the devastation was appalling the elves worked quickly and efficiently. They formed a chain of helpers to remove the lighter debris, passing it from hand to hand and stacking it safely to one side. The healers went in among the ruined talan to tend to the trapped elves and to make sure it was reasonable to move them as they were cleared of rubble. One elven maiden had a broken leg and Silael made a splint for the damaged limb and made sure she was moved carefully on to a stretcher.  
  
As the injured were carried out and more helpers arrived a group of tracker elves, together with Aragorn had begun to investigate the cause of the accident. Almost at once they discovered crossties that were not worn in any way but had been almost certainly chewed through.  
  
"These thongs have obviously not been cut, but bitten through with strong teeth." Aragorn held up the frayed ends in puzzlement. "What kind of animal would you have in the Golden Wood that could do this?"  
  
"None that dwells here by our let." The lady elf called Enfys replied. "The only such creature that could have caused this is the warg that came with your company."  
  
****  
  
As Gimli and Legolas burst into the Healing Chamber their jaws dropped in simultaneous horror at the chaos of the bedchamber. They both rushed forward to help and Legolas quickly realised what Haldir was doing. He knelt at Frodo's side and gently moved Sam over a little so that he could listen for a heartbeat.  
  
There was a flutter and the merest trace from Frodo's chest, once, twice and then it stopped again. Sam was about to resume his pumping, but Legolas gently stayed his movement and placed his own hands on Frodo's chest, pumping the halfling's heart with the right amount of pressure. "Place your hand over the wound Sam." Legolas said urgently. "Hold back the blood if you can."  
  
Gimli as soon as they had entered the room had rushed to Icicle's side and seen the dreadful arrow and a spreading pool of blood. He touched her lightly on the neck, only to confirm what he already knew, the warg was dead. The immediate problem was Pippin who was clinging frantically to the dead creature and sobbing hysterically.  
  
Gimli glanced first over to the two elves and Sam and saw the battle they were engaged in and turned back to Pippin. "Come on little one," he coaxed, "come away now, let her be." Pippin clung harder, reaching up to lift Icicle's great paw and put the lifeless weight on his shoulder, just as the warg would when she held Pippin down to wash him.  
  
"Poor little Pippin, come let me take you back to the bed." Gimli put his hands on Pippin's arms and tried to ease him away from the still body. But Pippin clung tenaciously to the warg and nothing Gimli could do was going to persuade him to let go. Short of forcing him, which the dwarf decided would not be a good idea right now, there was nothing to be done. Gimli sat down beside Pippin and Icicle and placed his hand protectively on the little hobbit's back, rocking him gently and stroking his hair, while Pippin sobbed his grief into Umumum's soft white fur.  
  
****  
  
As the investigators moved around the site of the accident the evidence against the warg increased. Each of the eight leather bindings, bar one, that held the talan in place had been chewed through. Although four of these Aragorn pointed out seemed too high for Icicle to have reached. "I would understand why the warg might have chewed on leather that was at her level," the ranger held up two more frayed ends. "But it would be unlikely that she would climb up the lower branches of the tree to do so."  
  
"But possible, nevertheless?" Enfys asked.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure she is physically capable of such a feat." Aragorn agreed. "but this is more like the work of deliberate sabotage. Why would a warg do such a thing."  
  
"That is not surprising," Enfys smiled, although with irony rather than humour, "Wargs are not generally pets to elves and this particular one, I believe, was stolen from the orcs of Moria."  
  
"Icicle was not stolen," Aragorn frowned as he thought about how they had actually come into possession of the warg. "She became attached to the perian, in fact, if not for her, he probably would not have survived."  
  
"That may be the case," Enfys said, "I do not want to pass judgement, but every possibility must be considered to prevent a repetition of this disaster."  
  
By the time the investigators had collected all the evidence, the rescuers also had managed to free all the trapped elves from the wreckage. The total number of casualties was low considering the height from which the structure had fallen and the number of elves caught up in the crash. One elf had a broken leg and two severe cuts and bruises, together with concussion, another had a sprained ankle and a bad gash in his leg. The rest were just shaken up but could walk away from the scene unaided.  
  
****  
  
Haldir soon became exhausted from breathing for Frodo and sat up, motioning for Legolas to take his place. Haldir then resumed pushing on Frodo's chest. He looked over to where Sam was applying pressure to the shoulder wound. The perian was fighting a losing battle. He was using his own cloak to staunch the blood, but from the look of the spreading pool, even that was not enough.  
  
"Master Gimli!" He barked. "Go into the other room and get gauze, padding, bandages, and blankets." Gimli jumped up and clumped into the other room, returning quickly with the requested items. "Bind the padding onto the shoulder wound. Keep doing that and applying pressure. Do not stop, even if it gets soaked through. Master perian, there an artery-" At Sam's confused look Haldir clarified, "A tube through which blood flows next to the join of the shoulder. Press into the hollow of the joint, and you should stop the flow." Samwise did this, and looked up for more instruction. Haldir did not have any more to give, and just then realised that it had been several minutes and still no healers had come. Switching places with Legolas once more, he asked the other elf where in Middle Earth all of the others had gone.  
  
"I do not know, Master Haldir. We came as soon as we heard the alarm. We saw no one else about."  
  
Sam broke in. "Oh, but they will come soon won't they Mister Haldir? Poor Mister Frodo's gone awfully blue!" Sam looked at his master as his image blurred through his tears. Mister Frodo had not been so pale since... the Morgul blade and Amon Sul. He had almost not made it then. Would he now?  
  
****  
  
Melystra had awoken at the sound of the bell ringing and had started out for the healing chamber, but elves running towards the scene of the accident had diverted her attention and she had run there to help with the injured. Naturally she believed this was the source of the alarm. Now she was at the head of the trail of stretcher-bearers and litter carriers who were bringing the more seriously hurt up to the Healing Chamber.  
  
The lady elf healer was confident that they would encounter no difficulties in dealing with this emergency as there were no serious casualties and several healing rooms available. But as soon as she entered the chamber her view changed.  
  
The first thing she heard was Haldir shouting instructions and the perian Samwise crying as she rushed to the source of the commotion saw the Ringbearer prone on the floor of Pippin's chamber. Without stopping to ask what had occurred she took over Sam's position and pressed firmly down on the artery at the same time asking Legolas sharply, "How's his breathing and heart beat?"  
  
"Weak," Legolas supplied. "Haldir and I have been breathing for him and massaging his heart, but he is still not managing on his own."  
  
She glanced around the room quickly. Gimli was trying to comfort Pippin who seemed to be draped over a mysteriously still Icicle. Oh, no time for that right now, leave them as they are. Deilen with other elves was looking after the casualties they had just brought up and should stay there.  
  
"Samwise, go and summon more assistance," she ordered. "I need Silael and Aragorn and. . ." Sam paused as he was already nearly through the door. "Tell Silael that he may want to inform the Lady Galadriel as well."  
  
Suddenly Haldir reared back from Frodo's lips and turned the halfling's head to the side. Frodo's blody convulsed, and he vomited, then drew a slow, grating breath. Evne though he was breathing on his own, Melystra was worried by the sound of it, and prayed to the Valar that permanent damage could be avoided.  
  
****  
  
By the time Aragorn, together with Boromir, arrived Frodo had been carried to a bed in another chamber and the bleeding had finally been staunched. He was now breathing on his own, but Haldir sat by him to monitor that he did not stop. In the meantime, Deilen and the helper elves had made the talan casualties comfortable, although they had to add makeshift beds to two of the chambers. Legolas and Melystra were sitting on the floor next to Pippin, stroking his hair and trying to persuade him to come away from the lifeless Icicle. Gimli stood by shaking his head in despair at the little one's tumultuous grief that did not seem to be abating.  
  
"What in pity's name happened here?" Boromir gasped in horror.  
  
"Frodo is injured we know not how." Gimli explained. "The warg is dead, shot by Haldir. He believed that Icicle was responsible for attacking Frodo, but I find that hard to believe."  
  
"Perhaps Frodo was trying to prevent her from nursing Pippin." Aragorn suggested. "Although I left her tied up outside and she has never become this vicious about it before."  
  
Enfys said nothing but walked over to the dead warg and picked up the trailing leather thong through which she had chewed to break free. Then she pulled another from her tunic, it was from the talan, and held the two side by side. "These were bitten through by different creatures, I am certain."  
  
She handed the two ends to Aragorn, who compared them carefully. "Without doubt," he agreed. "The teeth marks on the leather are quite different. So if Icicle did not chew through the talan supports, who or what did?"  
  
"Perhaps the creature that attacked the Ringbearer." Enfys suggested. "This is not as straightforward as it at first seemed, Master Ranger. I am afraid Haldir may have shot in haste and killed an innocent victim."  
  
"There's one who saw the whole thing." Enfys pointed out. "The little perian here, what does he say?"  
  
Melystra looked up at Enfys and shook her head, "Just 'Frodo, Umumum' over and over. He is too distressed to say anything coherent." Melystra turned to Aragorn. "I think you will just have to take the warg's body away and Legolas and I will attempt to lift him onto the bed. He is not getting any better like this."  
  
As Aragorn and Boromir gently lifted poor Icicle's lifeless body up, Melystra pulled Pippin close into her breast and rocked him gently. Legolas still stroked his hair and together they carried him to the bed. He did carried on keening a mournful wail, in between his sobbing of 'Frodo, Umumum', over and over.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir bore the still warm body out to the ante-chamber and laid it in a white sheet that Gimli set out and covered the warg over. Just as they finished, a white light illuminated the blood stained chamber, immediately making it seem clean and bright. The Lady Galadriel had arrived with Silael. Aragorn related as much of the story as he could, from the talan accident to the attack on Frodo and Icicle's death. "The only witness to the entire incident in the bedchamber, apart from Frodo himself, Milady, is Pippin, the little perian who was so badly damaged by the orcs."  
  
Galadriel smiled serenely, "I know who Pippin is, Estel. Do you think the little one can relate what happened?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head. "Not at the moment, he is in shock and doubly so. His cousin was brutally attacked and may still not recover and his precious warg, that was like a nurse to him, was killed before his eyes."  
  
"Nevertheless, I think that is where the answers lie for certain. Where is he now?"  
  
"Through here Milady." Deilen ushered Galadriel through to Pippin's room and looked sadly at the distressed little creature. "This will be a terrible setback for him I'm afraid."  
  
Melystra and Legolas stood up from the bed when Galadriel entered the room, "Do you wish to spend time alone with the perian?" Melystra asked.  
  
"Thank you Melystra," Galadriel smiled and watched as both Melystra and Legolas kissed Pippin on the head and left.  
  
Pippin sat on the bed hugging his scarf, his eyes wide as he rocked to and fro, muttering "Umumum, Frodo, Umumum, Frodo. . ." over and over.  
  
Galadriel took Pippin's face in her hands and looked into his eyes. "Hush little one, be at peace." She said this out loud and in Pippin's mind at the same time. He quieted but still rocked and stared. "Pippin!" She called to him again. "Peregrin! Look at me, turn your face up and look at me."  
  
Pippin did as he was told but looked away again quickly to resume his woeful, traumatized rocking motion.  
  
Galadriel turned to Deilen who was standing just behind the Lady, "Where is his companion? I sense a great need in this little one for the perian called 'Merry', where is he?"  
  
"Err, he sleeps, Milady." Deilen looked a little abashed at the question. "I don't think he will awake for a while yet."  
  
"Why would you assume that?" Galadriel smiled gently. She knew that Deilen would not deliberately harm another. "Did you give him a draught?"  
  
"Yes Milady," Deilen admitted. "He was overtired and still stressed over Pippin. I thought it would be better to make him sleep."  
  
"So it would, had not this occurred." Galadriel agreed. "But now you must fetch him. If you cannot wake him just carry him here asleep. Simply his presence will serve to calm this little one."  
  
Deilen bowed and left immediately. Galadriel moved back to look at Pippin once more and this time she did not speak audibly, but rather sent an image to his mind. It was not anything specific, but a general feeling of calm and serenity and an assurance that he was safe and that his Merry would soon be here. Pippin grew still and finally lay down quietly looking up at the beautiful white lady, seeing her clearly now for the first time since she had entered the chamber.  
  
Pippin felt confused, unsure of reality again. Something beyond terrible had just happened, Icicle was dead and Frodo too he thought, and now he couldn't even see Merry. But the beautiful white lady had come. He had seen her again and she was still pure and shining with brilliant light too wonderful for an insignificant being such as him to behold. But she seemed to speak kind words to him. So it must be a dream. But it was so hard to tell what was waking and sleeping, nightmare and dream; they all seemed to blend into one existence for him.  
  
Then the tall man-elf dressed in white came in to the room and he was carrying a hobbit in his arms. He brought him to the bed and laid him down right next to Pippin. It was Merry! It was just as Strider had said, he was sleeping, just sleeping, and he was still wearing the long white nightgown just like his own. Pippin snuggled into Merry's arms, lifting his cousin's right arm up so that he could put his body underneath it. Merry muttered a little, but did not wake. Whatever Deilen had given him, was designed to keep him slumbering for a long time.  
  
"Pippin, little one." Galadriel called to him as soon as Deilen had left and the three were alone. "Before you sleep would you like to talk to me?"  
  
Pippin looked at the dazzling figure before him, his wide eyes far from sleep, but too awed to make coherent answer. He shook his head slowly and cringed further back into Merry's safe, albeit unconscious embrace.  
  
Galadriel was knew the truth of the present matter, the accident with the talan and the warg's apparent attack on the Ringbearer lay locked in this little one's mind. She could not let the assumptions rule the way of justice, not when there was one before her who had witnessed the event.  
  
But at the same time Galadriel felt the diminutive perian's distress and anguish. He was not yet recovered from his abuse at the hands of the orcs and now for this to happen in his bedchamber in Lothlórien, where he was beginning to feel safe, would prove a dreadful and heartrending setback.  
  
Thoughtfully, Galadriel leaned over and touched Merry's forehead, running her fingers through his fair curls and touching lightly his closed eyelids. At the same time she gently put her hand on Pippin's little pointed ear, tracing the outline with her fingertips and following the line down under his chin until she lifted the shy face up to meet her gaze. This was her answer. She could feel the love and trust that was so deeply embedded between these two little creatures, these innocent periain.  
  
Merry, even in slumber emanated a deep need and closeness for his baby cousin and Pippin, having thought at one stage not to be worthy of such love, now knew once more that nothing, nothing in all of Middle Earth in the sundering seas or the Overheaven could ever take that love away from him. It was his forever and he returned it in equal measure for all time.  
  
Galadriel touched her fingers back to her lips and found with a childlike delight that she was smiling a smile of innocence. It had been some while that she had felt anything quite so charming and sweet as the simple and unquestioning love between these two.  
  
The Elf queen gently touched Merry's eyelids once more and whispered, "Wake softly perian tithen muin."  
  
Merry blearily opened his eyes and rubbed at them, although he did not seem too surprised to be waking up on the bed with Pippin and merely cuddled him a little closer and tried to snuggle back to sleep.  
  
"Open your eyes Merry," Galadriel commanded. "You have to wake now. Listen to my voice and answer me when I call you, dear heart."  
  
Merry yawned and looked up once more. Pippin was wriggling in his arms and seemed somewhat upset and he was suddenly aware that the Lady Galadriel was standing over him. Merry gave a start of surprise and clutched tightly onto Pippin.  
  
"Do not be afraid, Merry," Galadriel could see he was awake now, although still very drowsy. "I need you to talk to Pippin. Something bad has happened. Don't be alarmed, Pippin is safe, but some sad things have occurred while you slept."  
  
Merry gulped a little and nodded his head and croaked softly his voice not yet awake either, "What must I do?"  
  
"Take a drink first," Galadriel gave him a cup that she seemed to produce out of nowhere and Merry untangled himself from Pippin in order to take it and drain the contents.  
  
"Does Pippin need a drink too?" Merry asked always anxious that his cousin should be served as well as he. "Or was that something special like Deilen gave me."  
  
Galadriel smiled, "Yes Merry, you're most perceptive. It was something special, to wake you up a little more. Now how do you feel?"  
  
"I'm well Milady." Merry answered simply, "but will you tell me what has occurred?"  
  
"There has been an accident." Galadriel did not want to alarm Merry too much; one traumatised perian was sufficient to deal with. "Frodo has been hurt, but I think he will be all right."  
  
"Oh - poor Frodo!" Merry's eyes opened wide now. "What's happened?"  
  
"That is what I need to find out." Galadriel explained, but the only witness was your little cousin and he seems nervous to talk about it to me. I thought he might describe what happened to you."  
  
"I can try, but Pippin hasn't been saying much to anyone since. . . since we found him. . . after he was. . ." Merry always had difficulty verbalising what had occurred.  
  
"I know Merry, but this is very important, so you will try." Galadriel smiled confidently at him.  
  
"W-what should I say?" Merry did not even know what had happened.  
  
"Nothing, let me guide your thoughts little one," Galadriel touched Merry lightly on his forehead. "I will not harm you, the questions will be mine, but I think that Pippin will answer you more readily. Just let your mind go blank and trust to me."  
  
**** 


	28. Learned

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 28: Learned  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
Beta and additional material: MarigoldG  
  
****  
  
Sam buried his face into a corner of Frodo's cloak and sobbed. His chest heaved painfully against the walls of his ribs. All Sam could think of was what would he do if Frodo did not make it this time. How could he bear to live? Who would serve the Ringbearer? Where would he find the strength?  
  
Haldir assisted Silael in getting Frodo's clothes off. First his outer cloak, which he had to prise from Sam, then Silael started on the buttons of the tiny perian's waistcoat. A movement caught his eye, and he looked down. Sam had taken the dropped cloak, and was numbly folding it into a neat bundle, not seeming to notice the crimson blood staining his hands.  
  
"Here, young Samwise." said Haldir. Sam looked up at him and blinked as if seeing him for the first time. "When we take off Frodo's garments, would you help us by folding them and giving them to an attendant? They will see to it that the clothes are washed and mended." Sam nodded mutely and accepted the waistcoat that Silael offered him, a fresh round of tears starting as he looked at the torn and bloodied shoulder fabric.  
  
As Silael gently peeled away the soft linen shirt, he caught his breath at the sight of Frodo's shoulder. The flesh was torn and raw, with a slick green slime covering it. Haldir frowned at it.  
  
"How odd." He commented, and reached down to gently swab some off with a soft cloth. "I do not know much of the nature of wargs, but this does not seem to be lupine saliva." Silael and Aragorn examined the cloth.  
  
"How odd indeed." replied Silael. "Yet, there are wolves with brownish saliva, perhaps it is some foul twist the Darkness has given to the breed."  
  
"We should probably keep this." Aragorn said, folding the cloth in on itself, "It may provide enlightenment later."  
  
0-****-0  
  
Silael washed the torn shoulder and pronounced the good news that no ligaments had been cut. "But he will not be able to use that arm for several weeks, if it is to heal properly." Silael spoke as if he thought Frodo would live, but he actually doubted the small perian would make it through the next sun-cycle, unless through a direct act of the Valar. He saw no reason to point that out in front of Samwise, however, as it would only cause him more grief.  
  
Aragorn had undone the buttons on Frodo's breeches, and reached under the small body to lift and support it as he pulled them free. His hand touched some odd, sharp corners, and was soon slick with blood. Praying desperately that he was not touching fractured bone he drew his hand away.  
  
"Silael, is it safe to turn Frodo over? I fear he has a grievous wound on his back." Aragorn held up his bloody hand as evidence. Silael nodded curtly and signalled to Haldir. Together they lifted up Frodo and Aragorn placed several soft pads under him to alleviate the pressure on his windpipe. Then, turning him over, the two elves laid Frodo on his stomach.  
  
Samwise gave a heartrending cry and renewed his sobbing at the sight of Frodo's back. It was bloody and lacerated, with bits of broken glass from the floor still in the wounds.  
  
"Quickly! Silael called to one of the elves. "Bring a probe, scalpel, and tweezers, and prepare a wolfsbane poultice!" As the aide scrambled to do his bidding, Silael quickly examined the rest of Frodo's body for injuries. A peculiar bruising pattern was starting on the perian's neck, and not in the teeth marks he had expected. It looked more as if something with hands had tried to throttle the life from Frodo.  
  
When the aide brought the necessary tools, Sam examined them carefully. Elves or no, he was very suspicious about the cruel looking metal things Silael was now cleaning.  
  
"What are you going to do to Mister Frodo?" Asked Sam worriedly. "Don't stick those things into him, please. . ."  
  
"Sam," Strider tried to calm him. "Steady on. This will be no worse than when I had to operate on Pippin. You were there, and you did wonderfully well."  
  
"B-but Mr. Strider, sir! Th-this is my Mr Frodo, I mean not that it didn't tear me up to have poor Mr. Pippin go through it, but. . ."  
  
Strider could see that Frodo needed the glass taken out quickly, and despite his devotion, Sam was holding up the process. Aragorn gave a significant look to Haldir, who walked around the bed and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder.  
  
"Come with me, young perian," said the elf, "we will go and find if there is anything that needs to be done in the main chamber."  
  
"NO! I can't leave Mr. Frodo!" Sam's voice broke and he was unable to continue.  
  
Strider knelt down and embraced the hobbit, "Sam you do trust me, don't you? It was not your fault Sam. Perhaps it was mine for lowering my guard and believing we were in a haven. Nowhere is truly safe as long as the Quest continues." Aragorn released Sam, "Now go with Haldir and I will call you when we have finished tending to Frodo." With that the grief stricken hobbit allowed himself to be led from the room by Haldir.  
  
"Now," said Silael, turning his attention to Frodo's savaged back, "let us begin."  
  
0-****-0  
  
Back in the main chamber, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli were assisting with the elves that were injured in the talan collapse. All three looked up as Sam and Haldir stepped into the room, Sam with tears running down his cheeks, his face a picture of distress.  
  
"Sam?" Boromir gasped. He assumed, as did Legolas and Gimli, that only one thing could make Sam look so haggard. Frodo was dead.  
  
Haldir realised what they must be thinking, "The halfling lives yet." He nodded discretely towards Sam, then added, "but Aragorn and Silael have much to do."  
  
Boromir let out a captured breath, "That is good news for now. Do they know what assailed him yet?"  
  
"They believe he was attacked by some creature but are not certain of its origin," Haldir went on, "although it could be wolf-like."  
  
"It is good that you are here." Melystra came up to them from tending to the rescued elves. "We are pressed to care for all the injured and need all of the help we can muster."  
  
The next few hours passed in a blur for Sam, soon his world narrowed to helping the healers, holding together torn flesh for suturing, or handing instruments to waiting hands. But few minutes passed that he did not look worriedly over at the door that blocked his view to the room where his master lay, clinging to life.  
  
0-****-0  
  
Aragorn and Silael hunched over Frodo's back, each with a pair of tweezers, picking out shards of glass and placing them in a bowl next to the bed. Frodo stirred and whimpered softly. Aragorn stroked his head, and placed a comforting kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Shh, Frodo," he soothed, "all is well, just rest."  
  
Frodo was lost in a hazy world. Breathing was so hard, it hurt his throat terribly, and he longed to simply rest and sink into the warm, comfort that manifested whenever he did. But then it would be ripped away by rough lips on his own, forcing air into him, causing excruciating pain as they made him breathe. He couldn't rest, he had to hold on, but it was so hard, and he was so tired...  
  
Then a new torment had begun. His back felt as if it was on fire, the pain ripping away the fog that cushioned him from the outside world. But then as he got too close to surfacing, the pain increased and sent him back down into the depths, how long he was trapped in limbo like this, he couldn't tell, but eventually the probing on his back ceased, and the last thing he felt before he slipped into the welcoming dark was a soft, comforting kiss on his cheek.  
  
0-****-0  
  
The Lady Galadriel knew from each time she had briefly touched Pippin's mind that it was in a delicate and fragile state. She was loath to delve directly into his memory for fear of causing even more damage to the already battered and broken psyche. The little one barely knew what was real and what was nightmare any longer.  
  
But she touched Merry's mind and, although there was much anguish and pain relating directly to what had happened to his baby cousin, his thinking was still whole and healthy and his reasoning ability sound, more so than many people she had encountered.  
  
"Pippin? Pippin my lamb," Merry found himself saying, "Can you hear me? Do you know what I'm saying?"  
  
Pippin shook his head and then nodded. He was still confused and upset.  
  
"Pippin, just say something for me." Merry prompted again, although the voice was his the words were not, albeit they felt quite natural in his mind.  
  
"Frodo, Umumum?" Pippin muttered again, his brow furrowed and the panic obvious. "I know, my sweet," Merry squeezed him close. This time the words were his, as was the hug. "Don't be afraid, I'm here now." Galadriel added through his voice. "Say my name, say Merry."  
  
"Merry." Pippin whispered, looking up at him. "Merry, Frodo, where's Frodo? Is Umumum still gone?"  
  
"Pippin, you have to be very brave," Merry whispered. "I know you've been everso brave today and I need you to tell me about what happened to Frodo and Umumum. Were they fighting?"  
  
"Yes." Pippin said it so quietly he could barely be heard.  
  
Galadriel frowned a little and sent another question. "Were they fighting with each other?"  
  
"No, Merry," Pippin breathed. "Umumum's not bad, Merry. Will she get better?"  
  
"I don't think so, my Pip." Merry was not sure what to say. He did not want to upset Pip further but he could not lie to him about Icicle, it would only make it worse when he found out the truth.  
  
Pippin looked up at his bigger cousin. "Why Merry? Why did the elf kill Umumum?"  
  
"He thought she was fighting Frodo." Merry tried to explain.  
  
Pippin burrowed his head into Merry's side and sobbed. So it was true Umumum was dead just as he thought. He didn't understand, they had kept telling him he was safe now and that everything would be all right, but then Frodo had been hurt and an elf had killed Umumum.  
  
Galadriel could see they were not making progress. Pippin was too distressed still, he was now crying again and it would be sometime before he could speak. Slowly she reached forward to Merry again and placed her hand on his head. Merry lifted his eyes up to her but did not try to move, although he trembled a little at the contact. He could feel the Lady elf touching his thoughts, flittering on the edge of his mind, not intrusively, but looking at the pictures in his head with a kindly eye.  
  
Then, through him, Merry felt them both move on and into Pippin's thoughts. The smaller hobbit clenched Merry's arm hard as he felt the first touch against his memory. He whimpered as if in pain and Merry and Galadriel could see nothing at first except a whirlpool of frightening colours. Bright red, black, orange, purple and dark green swirled in a cacophony of jagged patterns. The Merry almost cried out in anguish at the turmoil that was Pip's mind, but Galadriel held him firmly with her thoughts.  
  
As they swam through the jumble of frightening images Galadriel pushed Merry a little way beyond the visual receptacle of memory so that he found a pool of unlinked thoughts and impressions. They seemed to be cast in shadow and gloom, a great sense of dread and worthlessness hung over the centre of Pippin's recent memory, coupled now, most recently with a sense of betrayal. What was that? Merry, with a little nudge from Galadriel, fished after the elusive thought. Pippin could not understand how Umumum had been killed and Frodo hurt after he had been told everything would be all right? He felt betrayed and frightened, nothing was real, everything was a lie, no one could be trusted.  
  
Merry felt himself touch Pippin's mind like a caress, he did not know how he did it, but the sensation seemed most natural, as if he were touching him softly with his hand, stroking his inner soul. Galadriel smiled at each tiny contact Merry made with Pippin's thoughts and every fingertip kiss elicited a little point of light, a gleaming star that made Pippin crane towards it.  
  
Gradually the glowing light began to grow greater than the gloom and blackness, the despair started to give way to hope. Pippin reached out for Merry feeling more of his bright light, letting the glow of his love wrap him in comfort and sanity.  
  
Merry glanced up to see Galadriel's expression, but it had not changed. She sent another question now that Pippin was calmer. "Tell me what happened Pip." Merry whispered.  
  
"It. . . was something came, Merry." Pippin was trembling with the memory, but at least he was talking.  
  
"What did the something look like, Pip my sweet?" Merry coaxed gently, Galadriel was letting him control the questions now.  
  
"It skin and. . . it bones. . . scared me." Pippin held Merry's arm tightly, squeezing until it hurt.  
  
"Did it fight Frodo?" Merry winced a little at the pain of Pippin's grip, but made no attempt to loosen it.  
  
Pippin nodded in affirmative. "Bad, very bad Merry. I was very scared, couldn't shout, I was too scared. See Merry, when I cried before it got worse, so I couldn't."  
  
"I know, my love." Merry loosened the grip on his arm and hugged Pippin close. "I know, but I'm here now and I won't let anything hurt you. Did Icicle, did Umumum fight the something?"  
  
Pippin nodded again. "Umumum got through the door and was so angry, but with the something. She bit it and growled and everything. It was very scaring, Merry, I didn't know what to do. Frodo was lying down and I couldn't move and Umumum was fighting the something and I couldn't move Merry, couldn't do anything!"  
  
"Of course you couldn't, Pip." Merry stroked his baby cousin's hair, "You're ill Pippin, you couldn't help, but you've helped now by telling what happened. Do you remember anything about what the something looked like?"  
  
"Like a big hobbit, but grown very old and thin, I think it was like that." Pippin furrowed his brow as he tried to remember exactly. "Not like an orc, not like a goblin, but scaring too, too much."  
  
"Do you think, Pip?" Merry suddenly realised that Pippin's description matched that of the creature from Bilbo's stories of his adventures, "Do you think it was Gollum? The thing that Bilbo told us about."  
  
"I don't know Merry," Pippin thought about this. "Might be, what did he want?" "The Ring, Pip," Merry looked up at Galadriel, her hand still resting lightly on his fair curls. "Do you think it was he, Milady?"  
  
She lifted her hand away now, touching Pippin lightly on his head before stepping away from the two hobbits. "Yes Merry, I believe you are right." Galadriel looked sadly at Pippin who was now curled up into Merry as close as he could get, quivering still with grief and sadness.  
  
Galadriel looked at her fingertips that had brushed the perian's brow and sighed at the enormous pain that was there. It was the pain of loss for his Umumum. The warg had represented the only spark of hope that had remained with the little one in Moria, the only glimmer of comfort and kindness through his long ordeal and now she was gone.  
  
But worse, for the warg, the healing mother, had died unjustly by the hand of one of her own. She had died defending the Ringbearer. Justice had failed and failed in Lothlórien. Galadriel herself was saddened to the centre of her being.  
  
0-****-0  
  
TBC  
  
If anyone wants to read this story in its original NC-17 form, see my author bio page for links to it. 


	29. Watched

Moria's Revenge,  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
Beta and additional material: MarigoldG  
  
A/N: Llinos here. We now have the benefit of three people working on this story. In case anyone wonders how that works, in this chapter for example Kookaburra wrote the first three sections and then an outline of where she saw it going and then I took over and wrote all of the remaining sections roughly following the outline but taking things much further. In the meantime, Marigold, who is currently staying at my house, sits and throws plot bunnies at me, reads and comments as I go along and finally beta's the whole thing. In this instance she also wrote a bit, including the last line!  
  
A/N: Kookaburra speaking- I have added material to chapter 26- specifically right after Aragorn and Melystra give Pip his bath- (It's about the socks) you can read it at Nindaiwe.com or on Starseekers site, or the Repost of MR. The links to both of them are on my author bio page.  
  
Chapter 29: Watched  
  
***  
  
Aragorn's arms ached. First he had strained them helping to move the fallen talan, and now he was holding Frodo off of the bed while Silael carefully bound the small hobbit's wounds. Frodo's slight weight was not the reason for Aragorn's discomfort. Rather it was having to discipline his muscles to hold Frodo perfectly still, while carefully supporting his head and concentrating on not putting any pressure on his injured throat. The hobbit continued to breathe on his own, however, the horrid rattling noise was still present.  
  
Silael finished off the bandage and tied it in place. He looked gravely up at Aragorn and nodded. As Aragorn started to lower Frodo back onto the bed, Silael stopped him with an outstretched hand.  
  
"Turn him over onto his back, it will help with his breathing," the elf instructed.  
  
Gingerly, Aragorn did as he was told although he did not miss Frodo's tiny wince of pain, and hitch of breath as his full weight was placed on his injured back. The ranger smoothed back the sweat and blood-soaked curls from Frodo's forehead.  
  
"Peace, little one, I know you are in much pain but please...stay with us, Frodo." Aragorn sent a silent prayer to the Valar for the Ringbearer's recovery.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Boromir straightened his back from helping Deilen set a broken leg, and looked around for another task, only to find that thankfully there were none. Melystra was giving the concussed elf more pillows, and Legolas, Gimli, and Sam were seated on a padded bench out of the way of the healers. Stretching his aching muscles and relishing the pleasant pops as the tension in his back released, Boromir made his way over to his friends.  
  
Gimli was massaging Sam's shoulder in a reassuring way, while the hobbit wept silently, head buried in his hands. Legolas looked up at Boromir's approach, and indicated the seat next to him. The Gondorian lowered himself down with a sigh of relief. He was bone-weary, and worried sick for Frodo and especially afraid for Pippin. How much could the littlest one endure after all?  
  
All four looked up as Silael walked into the room. He spoke quietly for a brief moment in Sindarin to Deilen and Melystra, then made his way over to the bench to the waiting members of the Fellowship "You may go in and see your companion now...but," added the Healer as Sam stood hurriedly, ready to rush into the anteroom. "You must be very quiet. I will not lie to you. Young Frodo is not out of danger yet. It is no certainty that he will survive this night, and even more uncertain whether he will ever regain consciousness."  
  
At these words, Sam thought his heart would burst. His poor Master Frodo, who he loved with all of his being might be dead before morning, or worse, if anything could be worse, he might never awaken. Sam thought back to Rivendell, when he and Mr. Bilbo would sit in all night vigils, straining to catch the slightest sign of life - a change in Frodo's laboured breathing, a twitch, or even the flicker of an eyelid. The most horrible few days in his entire life were repeating, and he could do nothing to stop it.  
  
Legolas shrewdly eyed Silael. "There is yet something you are not telling us." He stated baldly.  
  
"Yes, there is," replied Silael, "though it is not my place to tell you. It is Estel's wish that he be the one to speak further to you of Frodo's condition." The elder elf inclined his head in a small bow and took his leave of them.  
  
Sam restrained himself from running and made for the door that separated him from his master, followed by the others. As he entered, he slowed even more, and walked silently, as only a hobbit can, over next to Mr. Strider at Frodo's bedside. The ranger reached out and pulled the distraught hobbit into a tight embrace. They stayed like that for several minutes, and Sam was surprised and frightened to hear Strider weeping as well. More arms encircled them as Legolas joined the embrace. Gimli and Boromir stood on the other side of Frodo's bed, heads bowed in respect to the fragile life that lay before them, struggling to survive.  
  
At last Aragorn, Sam, and Legolas broke apart. Sam mopped his tear-streaked face with his handkerchief. Aragorn surreptitiously dried his eyes while Sam and the others pretended not to notice. While they had been able to work somewhat through their grief at the loss of Gandalf and then the horrors endured by poor Pippin, Aragorn had had to be their strength. This dire wounding of Frodo while in a place they had all considered safe beyond all question was the final blow to their leader and they found no shame in his tears, though they knew that Aragorn would not agree.  
  
When Gimli was quite sure that Aragorn was under control, he asked in a gruff voice, "Master Silael told us you would tell us of the extent of young Frodo's ills. Will you do so now?"  
  
Aragorn nodded, and, after taking a deep breath, began. "First of course, there is the danger that his windpipe could collapse. That injury is what is making the rattling noise when he breathes. But the greatest concern is that Frodo may have suffered permanent damage to his mind." He stopped, unable to continue though he had requested to Silael that he be the one to break this possibility to his companions, thinking it would be easier to hear from the lips of a friend rather than a healer.  
  
Sam gaped up at Strider. "W-what do you mean by that, Mr. Strider? How..." Legolas put an arm around Sam's shoulders and gave the hobbit a comforting squeeze.  
  
"I believe," said the elf, after an assenting nod from Aragorn, "that it is because Frodo was without air for a length of time. If unable to breathe for any significant time, part of the mind can suffocate, and so die. If Frodo lives, there is the possibility that he may not be able to remember, or communicate or move as well as he used to do before he was hurt."  
  
"B-b-but," Sam stuttered, "Mr. Frodo will recognise me won't he? He'll know his Sam, surely?" Legolas hugged him tighter. "There are no guarantees, little one. We can only wait." Sam began to cry anew, silent tears that would not disturb his master, though he shook with the force of them.  
  
0-***-0  
  
Pippin snuggled into Merry's comforting embrace, drawing shaky breaths, exhausted from the telling of what had happened in the chamber.  
  
Merry looked up as Galadriel rose to leave. "Is Pippin all right, Milady?" he asked, holding his Pip just a little tighter, but still carefully so as not to hurt him. "Is there anything I should do for him? I know it was all right, you being in his mind, because you know how, but was it all right I was there too? I've never done anything like that before."  
  
Galadriel gave him a gentle smile. "Do not be troubled, dear Merry. It was not unhealthy for Peregrin to have you in his thoughts, you dwell there always, though not in quite the same way as you just experienced. However, this was extremely tiring for him. It would be good for him to have some water, and then rest. You may go to where the Ringbearer lies and tell your companions what truly happened."  
  
"But what of poor Icicle? Is she really dead?" Merry had heard the story from Pippin but was not completely sure if it was a nightmare or reality. "Did an elf really kill her?"  
  
Resting her alabaster hand on Merry's head, Galadriel said, "Yes, Meriadoc, I am afraid both are true. Haldir, the elf who brought you here and was tasked to protect you, came in just as the nestraden naneth was nuzzling Frodo. He mistakenly assumed that she was the one who attacked Frodo, and was about to kill him. He shot prematurely I am afraid. His action shall be addressed."  
  
"Oh." said Merry quietly. "Poor Icicle! And poor Pip! But...Haldir." he trailed off and lowered his eyes.  
  
"But what, Merry?" Galadriel said softly, placing one finger under his chin and lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Haldir must be brought to account for this deed."  
  
"I don't think you should punish Haldir, Milady." Merry cast his eyes down shyly at his boldness in expressing his opinion. "He was doing his duty, protecting Frodo, I mean, and, well, if I had come upon Icicle and Frodo like that, and I had a bow, I might have done the same thing."  
  
"You do not wish for retribution? To avenge the nestraden naneth that succoured your little cousin?" Galadriel asked.  
  
"Oh, no Milady! I shouldn't want that! I mean it isn't really my place to decide whether Icicle should be avenged, it's Pip's, really, but I'm certain he would not want it either."  
  
"Good Merry, I am glad you feel that way but not surprised" Galadriel placed her hand once more on Merry's curls and then lightly touched Pippin's cheek with the back of her other hand, "If periain were to desire vengeance they would lose much of themselves."  
  
0-***-0  
  
"It would be best if you all left now." Deilen had come quietly into Frodo's chamber. "There is little else that you can do now but wait and I will sit with the perian through the next several hours and Melystra will follow me."  
  
"But I cannot leave Mr Frodo." Sam looked defiantly up at the elf. "I made a promise once and I'm not about to break it now."  
  
"Did you little one?" Deilen smiled kindly. "To whom did you make the promise?"  
  
"To Mr Gandalf." Sam looked at his hairy feet, too overcome with emotion to meet the elf's knowing eyes. "an' I realise he's not here an' all, but a promise is a promise."  
  
"Then you should not break it." Deilen agreed. "You shall keep vigil with me. But I entreat the rest of the company to take what rest you may, I don't doubt you need it and I will call for you if there is need."  
  
Aragorn stood wearily, realising that Deilen was right and that rest would be the most useful action he could take now. "I will return as soon as I am refreshed." He promised Sam. "Come Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, we should heed the wise counsel and take some repose."  
  
As they left the chamber each patted Sam on the shoulder or hugged him in sympathy. The hobbit drew up a high backed chair as close to the big bed as he could manage then climbed on board and sat with his arms folded, his eyes firmly fixed on Frodo as if he could, by his very gaze, will him better.  
  
0-***-0  
  
"Merry?" A little voice tickled Merry's ear just as he was dozing off to sleep, "Where's Frodo?"  
  
"He's in a chamber near here, my Pip." Merry was immediately wide-awake, not having meant to sleep at all. He realised that perhaps there was some residual effect from the drink Deilen had given to him. "I don't know how he is though."  
  
"Merr-ry," Pippin used his time honoured Merry-cajoling tone. "Can we see him? Please! I don't want to close my eyes anymore unless I know Frodo is all right."  
  
Merry was quietly rejoicing over Pippin's improvement. He was even remembering to use his 'Merry-will-do-anything-I-want' voice. At the same time Merry was deeply worried about Frodo too and desperately wanted to see him and poor Sam himself. "I'll peep outside and see if we can." He told Pippin. "You wait here and be good for a moment."  
  
"No no no! Merry" Pippin cried in panic, "don't leave me! Please not alone, Merry!"  
  
"It's all right, my Pip." Merry turned back at once and caught Pippin in his arms, feeling his cousin's heart racing as he held him close. "I won't leave you, promise, I won't leave you."  
  
"Sorry, Merry." Pippin realised that his big cousin was not going far. "I got scared." Pippin looked up into Merry's face with large, frightened eyes, as if he expected to be punished or reprimanded.  
  
"That's all right, my Pip." Merry did not want to make a fuss about it. "Can you walk do you think?"  
  
"Can try." If Merry wanted him to walk, then he would, all the way to Harad if his beloved cousin asked.  
  
Merry climbed down off the bed and then turned and held his arms out to Pippin. "Turn on your tummy Pip and slide down so I can catch you." So slowly that his movements were almost imperceptible, Pippin lay face down on the edge of the bed and let his feet dangle over the side. His socks fell off first and then he gradually followed them, Merry guiding his descent, finally catching him and sitting him down on the floor.  
  
Merry sat next to Pippin and carefully put the big woollen stockings back on the shaven feet and waited while Pip got his breath back. Then he stood and held out both his hands. Pippin grasped on and was pulled gently to his feet, although he was still a little doubled over. Together, very slowly they walked to the chamber door.  
  
"Ohh Merry, wait!" Pippin suddenly doubled over even more and pulled his hand away and tried to cross his legs at the same time. "I think I need the privy!" He whispered. "I don't know where, Merry!"  
  
"Don't worry my Pip." Merry sat Pippin down where he was. "Wait there, you can still see me. Oh and try to hold on." He ran quickly to the cupboard where he had seen Deilen put the required item before.  
  
"Quickly Merry!" Pippin nearly howled, using his hand now to assist his crossed legs. "I need to go!"  
  
Merry ran back and placed the large chamber pot on the ground and stood Pippin up by hauling him under his armpits from behind. Just in time, between them, they got the nightshirt out of the way and Pippin heaved a sigh of great relief as he finally managed what he needed alone and unaided. Merry mentally marked this off as another recovery milestone.  
  
Once everything, including hands, were cleaned and the pot stored away they started their odyssey again. Merry tentatively opened the door to outside and, seeing no one about, took Pippin's hands in his and walked him carefully along.  
  
Pippin went very slowly and had to stop every so often. He still hurt over most of his body and he was very stiff, so Merry walked backwards holding the little hands up to give him the most support.  
  
Merry took a sharp breath as a door in the corridor opened suddenly. He was not too sure that he should be walking the little invalid around and as he turned his head to see who was there Pippin sank down onto the floor again.  
  
"Merry where are you going with Pippin?" Aragorn asked him rather puzzled that he should be attempting such a thing. Boromir, Gimli and Legolas were just behind him and Merry guessed that this must be the chamber where Frodo was.  
  
"We wanted to see Frodo." Merry said simply and truthfully. "Pip couldn't go to sleep without, and I was worried too."  
  
"Well, I suppose you better had." Aragorn shrugged to the others and walked forward to carefully lift Pippin up. "How are you feeling, Pippin? Have you walked all the way from the other room?"  
  
"Yes, I have." Pippin looked nervously around him, a little overawed once more to have so many people looking at him at once.  
  
"And." Merry added in a conspiratorial whisper for Aragorn's ears only, "he used the chamber pot!"  
  
"He's doing well Merry That means his systems are recovering from the shock of his ordeal." Aragorn smiled down at Pippin, then with a frown turned back to Merry. "Was Pippin able to tell what took place?"  
  
Merry looked at the ground and nodded.  
  
Melystra overheard the exchange and glided over to the group. "The Lady informed me of what transpired. I will tell you, but it would not be helpful for the periain to hear it again. Why don't you take them into Frodo, and then we shall talk."  
  
Aragorn nodded curtly, then looked back down at Pippin and smiled. "Well done Pip for walking so far, I'll carry you the rest of the way, you look weary now."  
  
Legolas and Gimli smiled at Pippin and Boromir put his great hand on the small head and was rewarded with the best smile he had seen from the smallest hobbit since before Moria. The others then said goodbye and went on to the stairs, as Aragorn with Merry in tow, went back to the chamber. He nodded to Deilen. "Frodo has some more anxious visitors, may they stay a little while?" He set Pippin down to stand shakily with Merry's help and added in a lower tone. "It might be good for Sam to have some company too."  
  
Deilen nodded and picked Pippin up once more. "If you promise not to wriggle or move you may sit at the very end of the bed. Can you do that?"  
  
Pippin nodded to the elf and was set down on the far end of the bed. In the meantime Merry had gone to Sam and put his arm on his shoulder. "Sam? I'm sure he'll pull through."  
  
"But he looks so ill Mr Merry." Sam's bottom lip trembled against more tears waiting to fall. "an' after all he's had already, what with Weathertop an' losin' Mr Gandalf an' then poor little Pippin an' all that happened."  
  
"Come on Sam," Merry squeezed his shoulder. "We hobbits are made of sterner stuff than we look. After all, even Pip's getting better now and look at what he went through."  
  
"I know." Sam sniffed. "He's looking a bit brighter, Mr Pippin I mean."  
  
"Would you like to sit up on the bed too Sam?" Deilen asked kindly, realising that poor Sam had been planning to spend the night on the hard straight-backed chair and Frodo only just came halfway to the end of the bed so there was plenty of room.  
  
Without waiting for an answer, as Sam seemed a little unsure as to whether it would be proper for him to sit on his master's bed, Deilen plucked him up under the arms and set him carefully down next to Pippin. The elf then looked quizzically at Merry who nodded and was lifted up to be placed on the other side of Pippin. The three fitted nicely along the foot of the bed where they could easily see Frodo's chest steadily rising and falling.  
  
Pippin looked at Sam's tear-stained face and then back at Merry who nudged his little cousin encouragingly. Pippin up until now had not offered close physical contact to anyone besides Merry, but Sam looked so distraught and Frodo looked so ill. Pippin's eyes filled up with tears and he stretched his sore arms to reach around Sam's neck and buried his face in the little gardener's shoulder as he whispered, "Poor Sam, poor Frodo."  
  
"Oh Pip," Sam breathed back. There was nothing else any of them could say so they just sat and held each others' hands and watched Frodo clinging tenaciously to life, even in his beleaguered state, the Ring of Power still lying on his labouring chest.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, Sam lifted his face from Pippin's curls and looked over at Merry. "Mr. Merry, sir?" he said quietly, so as not to disturb Pippin, who was now snoring softly.  
  
Merry looked up from his musings. "Yes, Sam?"  
  
Sam checked to make sure Pippin was really asleep, and asked, "Begging your pardon, but what did happen," Sam nodded his head in the direction of Pippin's original room, "In there?"  
  
"Oh." Merry looked back down at the rich coverlet. "I-it was Gollum." At Sam's wide-eyed look of disbelief, Merry nodded as if to back up his story and continued. "Pippin said Gollum came in and attacked Frodo, then Icicle attacked Gollum, and drove him off right before Haldir came in, and saw Icicle..."  
  
"Covered in blood next to Mr. Frodo." Sam finished. "If I ever have the chance to get my hands on that stinker I'll..." he growled, but left the rest unsaid, as he did not think that what he really wanted to do to the monster that attacked Frodo was fit for young Mr Pippin's ears, him being a gentlehobbit and all.  
  
0-****-0  
  
Aragorn, Gimli and Boromir were bone weary, it had been a long day and, although only half spent, they had worked hard on the rescue and the added trauma had made them more tired than mere labour. Legolas was still alert, but even his elven senses were weary and in need of recuperation. He favoured the thought of a reviving walk through the Golden Wood.  
  
Haldir awaited the four as they came down from the healing chamber. The elf had been too contrite and overcome with guilt to visit the hobbit himself. Galadriel had informed him of Icicle's confirmed innocence and that in fact she was most probably Frodo's saviour and the impetuous elf was mortified with shame. "How fares the perian?" He asked Aragorn.  
  
"Which one," The ranger returned in surprise. "Pippin or Frodo, Merry or Sam? They are each of them suffering in some way."  
  
Haldir glanced at the forest floor in embarrassment, "The littlest one - I deeply regret having killed his warg. I mean the nestraden naneth." He added quickly, "and the Ringbearer how fares he?"  
  
"Pippin is mostly upset about Frodo, who is still breathing at least." Aragorn explained. "I don't believe the loss of Icicle has truly sunk in yet. I fear it will be hard for Pippin when it does."  
  
"Is there something," Haldir paused for a deep breath, "anything, I can do? Anything that will repair the damage I have caused with my impetuous behaviour?" "You cannot be blamed for acting as you did." Legolas said gently, although the eyes of the other three told Haldir a different story. "What is done may not be undone." "In the meantime," Aragorn yawned involuntarily, "you could perform a small service by keeping watch over the hobbits. They are in Frodo's chamber and Pippin probably should not stay there all night. He needs to be persuaded back to his own bed. Deilen is there and will help, but he cannot leave Frodo, and Merry cannot carry the little one easily." "I will go at once," Haldir confirmed, "although I fear the periain may not wish to see me after what has happened."  
  
0-****-0  
  
Frodo drew another breath and Sam's almost stopped as he waited for the next. Each time Frodo's chest rose and fell the little gardener would tense, as if breathing in time with his master would help him to draw more air. With every gasp Pippin, feeling the tension in Sam, would squeeze his arm and Merry in turn kept up a soothing stroking on Pippin's hair.  
  
Suddenly Frodo's air intake changed and the three hobbits froze in unison. Frodo's nose twitched slightly and he licked at his lips. Sam gasped and leaned forward, "Mr Frodo, Mr Frodo!" Frodo's eyes opened and he blinked them shut again against the light. "Mr Frodo?" Sam called again.  
  
Merry meanwhile called for the healer elf. "Mr Deilen, Sir, come quickly! We think Frodo is waking!"  
  
Deilen rushed to the chamber from a side room to find Frodo blinking owlishly at the three hobbits as Sam held one of his hands and Merry the other while Pippin had hold of Frodo's foot.  
  
The breathing was still painful and laboured and the bigger test would be if Frodo could recognise his cousins, friends and surroundings. "Mr Frodo!" Sam whispered urgently again, "It's me your Sam, can you remember anything?"  
  
"Steady, Samwise," Deilen counselled. "Do not rush him."  
  
Frodo looked at Sam as if not really seeing him to begin with but gradually the clouds moved from his delicate features and he mouthed his name, "Sam." No sound came but the lip movements were clearly discernable.  
  
Sam looked up at Deilen with great joy written on his face, "He knows me Mr Deilen, Sir! Mr Frodo recognised me."  
  
Frodo then became aware of Merry on his other side and mouthed to him, his brow drawn tight in query, "Pip?"  
  
"He's all right Frodo," Merry confirmed and moved behind his smaller cousin so that he could lift him up into Frodo's field of vision, "He's right here, see."  
  
Frodo had moved his head slightly so that he could see Pippin and the tiny movement had taken much out of him. He closed his eyes once more and settled back down to his painful breathing.  
  
Deilen touched Frodo's forehead and then felt his heartbeat. "His fever is low and he recognised all in the chamber, a good sign, my friends." The elf smiled at the three hobbits, "I think your cousin will recover."  
  
At that moment Haldir came to the chamber. "Deilen, I have come to offer my services. Estel said you may think it time for the little one, Pippin, to go back to his own chamber and that I should bear him there."  
  
"That would be wise indeed." Deilen turned to Pippin who was still holding Frodo's foot. "Come Pippin, it is time for you to rest now. You have seen Frodo awake so you may sleep in comfort now. Haldir will carry you to your own chamber."  
  
"Can I stay with Frodo?" Pippin asked.  
  
"I think it would be better for you both if you slept in your own beds tonight." Deilen told him kindly. "Frodo needs to rest quietly and so do you."  
  
"Can Merry come with me?" Pippin asked with a slight note of panic in his voice. "I don't want to go without."  
  
"Of course I'll come with you my Pip," Merry chimed in. "I told you I wouldn't leave you and I won't."  
  
"Very well," Haldir bent to lift Pippin up, but Deilen stayed his hand while Pippin stroked Frodo's foot goodbye and whispered his 'good night' to his cousin. Then the healer elf nodded for Haldir to continue. He picked the hobbit up under his arms and laid him over his shoulder. Merry frowned a bit as Aragorn usually carried Pippin in his arms, but he let it pass as his cousin had not complained and jumped down from the bed after kissing Frodo lightly on the forehead and giving Sam a hug.  
  
"Bye Sam," Pippin called quietly so as not to disturb the now sleeping Frodo. "See you tomorrow."  
  
"Night-night, Mr Pippin, Mr Merry," Sam answered sotto voce, "Sleep well."  
  
Haldir made the way along the corridor to Pippin's chamber but when they had nearly reached the room Merry, who did not like Pippin being carried like a potato sack, pulled at Haldir's tunic. "I think you should put Pip down now and I'll help him to walk. Aragorn says it's good for him to walk."  
  
Haldir sighed and set the wobbly hobbit on his feet and took hold of his hand instead. Merry held Pippin's other hand and very slowly he walked along into his own chamber. As they passed the first entrance, the door to the inner room, where Icicle's body lay covered by the sheet, had been left open inadvertently and as Pippin shuffled by he caught sight the white fur of his beloved Umumum. Giving a little gasp of horror and sadness, Pippin pulled against the two hands holding his as he surged forward towards the warg.  
  
"No Pip!" Merry held him in a hug now, "There's nothing you can do, you'll only upset yourself again."  
  
"But Merry," Pippin pleaded, "I have to say goodbye. It's Umumum and she was so kind to me when I thought all the world was black and pain and nothing could save me and everyone hated me and the only thing left for me to do was die. And Merry you weren't there and I wanted you so much, so much it hurt, more than anything the orcs did to me and then Umumum came and she took care of me and she loved me and made me stay alive, for you Merry, see she did it for you too. Oh Merry, Merry, it's too sad for her to die, don't you see, it can't be true, Merry, make it better, please make it better."  
  
"Oh Pip my love, I can't." Merry held his sobbing cousin, tears streaming down his own cheeks. "I would if I could, I'd give anything, but I don't know how to bring her back."  
  
Haldir took a deep breath, in spite of his generally aloof demeanour; his heart was unnaturally moved by the depth of love and emotion shown by these small creatures. How could he have been so precipitous and shot the nestraden naneth, a title she truly deserved he now knew. He knelt beside Pippin so that he could speak to him face to face. "I am so sorry little one - Pippin, that I shot the war. Icicle. It was truly a mistake and I regret it deeply from the bottom of my heart. I will not ask your forgiveness as that would be too much to expect, but I beg your pardon at least, that you will not judge me evil."  
  
"It wasn't your fault, Mr Haldir," Merry put in. "You thought you were doing the right thing."  
  
"Not your fault," Pippin sniffed, "Poor, poor Umumum." He took Haldir's hand again and then as the elf went to stand up, the hobbits saw a tear run down the elf's cheek. Pippin held Haldir's face in his little hands and gently pressed his lips to the wet trace and kissed the sorrow-filled tear away. "You cried for Umumum and that's a good thing. She was very kind, she would forgive you, so I must too."  
  
Then Pippin took Merry's hand and together they went to sit by Umumum's lifeless body and stroke the white fur once more, as they both said goodbye.  
  
Haldir stood up now and took a deep breath. Without more words he left the chamber and went immediately to atrium of Galadriel's private retreat. To the elf's astonishment the guard that stood before the entrance at once opened the door with the words, "Haldir, The Lady has been expecting you."  
  
****  
  
TBC 


	30. Redeemed

Moria's Revenge: Chapter 30: Redeemed  
  
Author: Llinos Beta and additional material MarigoldG  
  
A/N: I know I (Kookaburra) keep promising that it won't be so long until the next chapter, but circumstances keep Llinos and I from being near computers on alteranting weeks.Also- announcements:  
  
For those of you that don't already know, (and there are very few) Llinos is continuing "Recaptured!" with a separately posted story. Just do a search for her author page, and you will find it. She has also been revising the original "Recaptured!" and if you want to read the very original one, go to starseekers site, the link is in my author page.  
  
Also: On Nindaiwe.com, Rufferto has been converting a roleplay into a fanfic, and a very wonderful one at that. Llinos and I have joined the roleplay, so you might see some of our stuff on there.  
  
Here is the link to the board: http://pub82.ezboard.com/flordsoftheslashedfrm38  
  
read in this order: Shadows and Flame, Tomatoes and Nice Crispy Bacon, Two of a Kind, Three's Company.  
  
I'm Sam and Llinos is Captain Nagash!  
  
***  
  
Sam had remained on the bed after Merry and Pippin had left and wondered if he should move back to the chair now that he was alone with Mr Frodo once more, after all it didn't seem fitting for a servant to sit on his master's bed. He looked over the side of the tall bed, all the elven beds in this place were so high, it seemed a long way down. Then he looked back at his Master. Frodo was still breathing raggedly, each intake of air seeming to need a huge effort, and then the breathing pattern was interrupted as he whimpered a little.  
  
Sam was next to him in a second, soothing his hair from his face and whispering gently into his master's pointed ear. It would obviously be foolish for him to climb down from the bed Sam decided. What if Frodo should wake and he could not see him or if he thought no one was in the room because Sam was not tall enough to be seen from Frodo's elevated position.  
  
For the next several hours, as periodically Deilen or one of the other healers looked in, the little gardener sat by Frodo's head on the big bed, stroking his hair and holding his hand. His mind drifted off to the events of the past day. He was glad to see young Pippin looking a bit better and Merry happier because of it. Now this had happened he hope it wouldn't set them all back again, and he found himself wondering how poor Mr Haldir must be feeling. The unfortunate elf had rushed in to try and protect his Master and thought he had discovered his attacker, and. and made a terrible mistake.  
  
Well Sam had never really cared much for the stuck up elf, even though he shouldn't really go passing judgement on his betters like that, especially him being an elf and all. But then again his Gaffer always said "them's as think they're betterer than others, oftimes baint got nuthin' to be proud o' at all." Sam reckoned this was right enough, but all the same, he was thinking now how could it be that dear Icicle, who had saved Mr Frodo's life and cared for Mr Pippin when he was so badly off, how come she had to die just to give Mr Haldir his comeuppance, especially as how the elf thought he was doing the right thing - a sad business all round. It made no sense to Sam and Samwise Gamgee did not like things that made no sense.  
  
He looked at his sickly Master and thought if he were awake he would no doubt be able to make sense of it all. Eventually, getting used to being on the bed then growing bolder and indeed sleepier, he snuggled down beside Frodo and closed his eyes, knowing that if Frodo wanted him he would be awake in a second.  
  
-0****0-  
  
Merry had finally coaxed Pippin back to the bed after they had kissed Icicle goodbye and covered her over again.  
  
Pippin had cried long and hard, even though it did not seem possible that he had any more tears left in his little body. It frightened his older cousin that Pippin sobbed so much as it was physically exhausting him as well as draining him still further emotionally, but Merry had no real words of comfort, nothing could make this latest tragedy better or bring Umumum back to life, so he just rocked Pippin to and fro and cried with him.  
  
Merry's tears were as heartfelt as Pippin's, he too had grown to love the warg. It was she that had nurtured and been the only solace for his precious Pip in his torment and agony. She had been there when Merry could not be. He had felt so guilty at that and felt a great debt to the gentle beast. Not only had she loved Pip and given him her warm body for comfort, she had kept him alive with her mother's milk and made him hang on until they found him. Pippin would most certainly not have survived without Umumum.  
  
Probably Frodo too would now be dead and perhaps even the Ring gone with the creature Gollum! The enormity of the warg's deed began to strike Merry for the first time in its full implications. How could she be dead? How could she have met such an unjust end. Poor Haldir, he must be feeling totally devastated to have caused her destruction. It is a good thing that elves have long lives, Merry thought, he will need a long time to get over his terrible mistake.  
  
-0****0-  
  
Pippin clung tightly to Merry, his thoughts incoherent and muddled. He could not really grasp what had happened. One moment he had been happily playing with Frodo, past miseries beginning to fade, the pain in his little body diminishing, the fear in his heart gradually easing and the horror and guilt of what had happened, growing less with each tentative step he took and every kind word from his friends, every moment he spent with Merry, or just knowing Merry was nearby.  
  
Then, like some hideous nightmare it had all fallen about his ears. Everything had come crashing down and now Frodo might die and precious Umumum was dead! And even Merry couldn't explain why! How could that be? If Merry couldn't understand it how could he, Pippin, begin to know why it had happened?  
  
Poor Umumum, poor elf! He hadn't meant to kill her, that much Merry had told him. It was a terrible mistake. But it seemed too cruel. Too cruel for Umumum and for Haldir; even he had wept, Pippin saw that. He was so sad that he had killed her. Maybe it was something sent by the Valar to punish him, Pippin.  
  
He had been right in the first place, he was a bad hobbit and did not deserve Umumum and so now she had to die, but it was so unfair, Umumum had done nothing wrong and Haldir had done nothing wrong. It must be him, Pippin that had done wrong and he didn't know how to make it better.  
  
-0****0-  
  
Frodo's mind swum round and round in a dark and dreadful pool. He was being drawn into the centre and then he realised it was a deadly whirlpool and he could not swim strongly enough to escape its pull. Soon he would be dragged down into the airless depths. At least he would no longer need to try and breathe under the mirky water for there would be no air to be had there.  
  
With a sudden start as if he were falling, Frodo caught himself and his consciousness climbed painfully up from the water and he gasped a precious mouthful of air. His eyelids pulled apart and he saw poor, dear Sam hovering over him, fear and worry creasing his young features.  
  
"Sam!" he mouthed, unable to make any actual noise. Frodo could hear various voices around him but none of them made any sense. He tried tiredly to remember why he felt so ill and why was it so hard to breathe? He vaguely remembered playing with Pippin and then something had happened, but he could not quite recall what it was.  
  
He could see Merry, Sam was holding his hand - but what had happened to Pippin? Merry would know. Frodo attempted to speak again, but no sound emerged. All he could do was to mouth the name, "Pip?"  
  
Merry obviously understood and when Frodo flickered his eyes open again, he could see his little cousin and knew that he was safe. Frodo relaxed and fell back into the pool once more. But it was still an unpleasant place. He concentrated on floating on the surface, trying not to drown in the swirling, forbidding depths. As his mind was spun round on the choppy waters he began to see flashes of what had happened.  
  
Gollum was tearing at his throat! Frodo tried to lift his arms up to protect his vulnerable neck, to keep hold of The Ring! But then a whirl of white had blurred across his vision, growling and snarling at the assailant.  
  
Frodo's dream faded from reality and he could not focus on the rest of the assault or what had happened, but then two apparently disconnected images floated across the pool and into his view. Icicle the white warg, Pippin's nestraden naneth, was running across a grassy plain, her ears alert and her fleecy tail streaming behind her. Frodo knew somehow this was no longer a memory, but somehow a vision, something that might be.  
  
Then he saw the elf, Haldir kneeling with his head held in his hands, weeping bitterly as if all the woes of Middle Earth lay upon his shoulders. Frodo felt his hand try to reach out, to calm the distraught figure. But he could not reach him and when he opened his mouth to speak no words came. Frodo writhed in his sleep, making Sam lean over him anxiously. But his master did not wake this time.  
  
The image of Haldir made no sense to Frodo, but it greatly distressed him. Then the two visions blended in the disturbing way that dreams will and he saw Haldir, still sobbing but now standing, the tears coursing wet tracks down his pale cheeks, an arrow nocked in his bow. Frodo's view followed the aim he took and his eyes shot after the speeding arrow as it plunged into the side of the running warg. Icicle screamed a death cry and fell to her side, a plume of red spurting from her white throat. Frodo's eyes fled back to Haldir and once more the elf was kneeling and weeping. The hobbit's heart went out to the elf, his sorrow was palpable and Frodo knew that he had committed a grave error for which he was now truly sorry.  
  
-0****0-  
  
In her mirror Galadriel had been watching the thoughts of the halflings and was gladdened that, not only had they not blamed Haldir, but one by one, in their own way they had forgiven the elf for what had happened. The Elven Queen looked up from the carved stone basin and smiled at Haldir. Although she did not speak, she moved to stand in front of the elf, waiting patiently to hear what she knew he would say.  
  
"Milady, I come to seek a boon." He bowed his head as he spoke and touched his chest with his right hand. "I have been guilty of a terrible misjudgement and wish to make recompense."  
  
"Explain what your misjudgement was." Galadriel's voice was even and unemotional. "And what recompense do you believe you can make, Haldir?"  
  
"I have misjudged the little perian, most grievously." Haldir could not meet the Lady's gaze but kept his eyes firmly on the ground. "I tarnished him with the blame of what had happened to him, which could not have been his fault. I saw the taint of orc and did not consider why he was so used. I know now there was no fault in him. And I misjudged the nestraden naneth also for her species and origin, that she belonged to orcs."  
  
"The nestraden naneth belonged to orcs?" Galadriel surprisingly interrupted, making Haldir meet her eyes for the first time.  
  
"I beg your pardon, Milady." Haldir shook his head in bewilderment, "I do not understand."  
  
"Why do you think I named her so?" Galadriel asked gently. "How many wargs have you encountered that have been given elven names?"  
  
"I - I thought it was because of her - her care of." Haldir screwed his brow in confusion and fell silent.  
  
"It is a rare thing to see one such as you, Haldir, confused and lost for words." The White Lady knew what was in his heart but he still did not understand completely. "The nestraden naneth, she did not happen by chance. Do you not see?"  
  
"See what Milady?" Haldir was still confused, but Galadriel was not going to give him any further clues. He fell silent, thinking through what he had been told. "Then she was sent? By. by. The." Haldir fell silent again as the full realisation of exactly what he had destroyed started to sink in.  
  
"There is much evil in this Age, Haldir," Galadriel saw that the elf now fully understood what had happened. "But you did not think that The Valar in Their wisdom would stand by and watch the precious perian suffer without any let? What they were able to do was little enough, but it served."  
  
"And I killed her." Haldir sank to his knees before the Elven Queen. "Now I know, doubly so, that the boon I beg is right and just, Milady. I ask, in all penitence if you will intervene with The Ilúvatar on my behalf and offer my grace, that which gives me immortality, in exchange for the life of the nestraden naneth."  
  
Galadriel stepped forward and laid her ivory hand upon the penitent elf's bowed head. "They know already of your desire, Haldir and they will grant it, but understand this. To give of your Grace will not only prevent you from departing over the sea but it will rob you of your life essence."  
  
"Milady, I understand," Haldir looked up at Galadriel now, his eyes were filled with remorse, but not for himself, he truly regretted the death he had caused. "I know that it will dull the existence I have left and that I will only be able to dwell in the world of mortals, but if anything that I can offer will ease the pain of the innocent perian, then I gladly give it."  
  
-0****0-  
  
Aragorn and Boromir had waited until Merry and Pippin had finally fallen asleep before carrying the lifeless body of Icicle down to a sheltered spot in a leafy glade. There Gimli and Legolas had already dug a grave and as the two men approached, carrying the limp form wrapped in a white sheet, they stood reverently to either side.  
  
Carefully, the two Gondorians lowered the warg to her final resting place, one snowy paw slipping out from the sheet as they laid her down in the grave.  
  
Legolas had gathered flowers and he laid these beside the marker, which Gimli had carved from a white rock. The words on it read, "Icicle, nestraden naneth, kind mother, true friend and loyal defender."  
  
Then, as the others bowed their heads, Legolas sang a sweet farewell, it was an adaptation of the lullaby he had sung to Pippin:-  
  
A lasta quettanya (Hear my words)  
  
nestraden naneth muin (dear healing mother)  
  
losto nûr (sleep deep)  
  
îdh tûr (you won rest)  
  
losto hodo nuin. (sleep still under the stars)  
  
As his voice, filled with sorrowful lament, carried through the still woodland, Galadriel and Haldir hurried towards the spot. As they entered the leafy glade, Gimli was about to tip the first spade full of the rich brown earth onto the lifeless body.  
  
"Hold!" Haldir cried to the dwarf, "Stay your hand Master Gimli, please."  
  
"What nonsense is this?" the dwarf harrumphed in indignation. "Why are you here? It is a little late for contrition."  
  
"Peace, Gimli my friend." Legolas could see the concerned look on the Lady Galadriel's face and knew this was an important mission. "Let us hear Master Haldir."  
  
"I beg pardon, Milady," Aragorn bowed to Galadriel, "Have we disturbed the wrong ground? Silael thought this would be a suitable place."  
  
"No the place is fitting, Estel." Galadriel turned slightly to indicate the elf at her side, and spoke in a quiet tone. "Haldir wishes to offer a healing of his own."  
  
"What healing is there to be offered that will help the warg?" Gimli growled at the elf.  
  
"It would seem very little." Haldir agreed, "but I am truly sorry for what happened and I believe that my speed of hand was prompted by more than a wish to defend the Ringbearer and should have been tempered by more caution."  
  
"Haldir, we do understand that," Aragorn spoke gently, he could see the true regret in the elf's face now, "it was an accident."  
  
"But it should not have happened, and it was my blame and mine alone." Haldir knelt by Icicle's cold body. "Please Legolas, Master Gimli, help me to lift the nestraden naneth from her grave - it is too soon for her to sleep. All is not yet lost."  
  
Legolas and Gimli exchanged mystified glances but nevertheless lifted Icicle from the depths of the cold earth and laid her on the warm grass. Galadriel came and knelt on the other side of the white body and laid her hands upon Icicle's white coat, the ivory fingers almost invisible against the pure fur. She looked at Haldir, her eyes boring into his and spoke into his mind.  
  
'Haldir? Do you understand what it is that you are offering?'  
  
'I understand Milady and I give freely of it without hope of redemption, without hope of reward.'  
  
'Then so be it!'  
  
The four fellowship members stood open-mouthed as the trees above them seemed to part and a great white light shone down upon Icicle's cold body. The glow was intense and engulfed Haldir and Galadriel in its brilliance. A voice, more sweet than the piping of nightingales, more entrancing than a silver waterfall spilling over shimmering stones, more lovely than a breeze on a summer's day trickled over their consciousnesses. Each of them heard the sound, although nothing filled the air but the blessed light.  
  
'Haldir, you have offered the greatest gift an elf can give. You offer your life, your essence, your immortality in exchange for the continued existence of this simple warg.'  
  
'I do.' Haldir's voice sounded in all their minds in response. Each of the fellowship gasped in amazement. Was this truly the voice of Elbereth? Also they wondered in amazement at the sacrifice the elf was making.  
  
'Why have you chosen this course?'  
  
'I was guilty of pride. I did not understand the purity of the tiny perian, nor the Valar's purpose in sending the nestraden naneth to succour him. It is solely my fault that she lies dead. I was wrong and wish to make recompense.'  
  
'Haldir, it is a noble act that you offer. We would accept it, but you have omitted one thing. The periain did not blame you and have forgiven you. Do you realise how saddened they will be to have the nestraden naneth returned to them at the cost of your existence?'  
  
'I would still wish it. Why would they prefer my continued life when the healing warg can be saved with what I offer? But I would not want to distress them further, may they not remain in ignorance of what I give?'  
  
'We see their minds, they are pure and innocent, but they will know and your sacrifice will hurt them, especially the perian tithen muin - his pain has been too great already. Your willing offer is enough. It was given in grace and we accept the spirit of it but will not take the essence of you, Haldir. Go in peace until we meet on the undying shores.'  
  
Haldir gave a small quiver and his hands fell forward to rest against Galadriel's fingers still lying on Icicle's white coat. The light grew in brilliance and the elf caught his breath as he felt a slight quickening beneath his hands. He was filled with wonder that he had been spoken to by one of the Valar, indeed he was sure it was Elbereth herself and that his boon would be granted and because of the periain's purity and goodness They had given back his Grace and essence. Truly he had misjudged the halflings, if the Valar gave them so much esteem and care, who was he to have criticized them?  
  
The quickening grew as the white glow intensified still further, until the whole glade was bathed in its wonder. Legolas fell to his knees, Aragorn placed his right hand upon his breast and Gimli crossed his hands over his heart, while Boromir gazed in amazement and awe upon the scene. They all knew they were about to witness a miracle.  
  
Suddenly there was a low whine and Icicle raised her head.  
  
0-****-0  
  
TBC  
  
Review notes:  
  
shirebound: Thankyou, thankyou THANKYOU for staying on, oh, and congradualte Llinos on those lines- they're hers! ;-)  
  
Coriandra: Ohhh...Pip is *far* from healed...*cackles*heeheehee...  
  
Pipster: I think this chapter answered your question- and I am a Miss. :-)  
  
august wynd: we can't find it because people are stupid. That's pretty much the reason for everything that's wrong on earth.  
  
ChiChambo: Using the chamber pot means that his kidneys are untying and he is recovering from dehydration.  
  
Hel: Such a long review! I love it! and what is your native language?  
  
-Congradulate Llinos on the lullabies. She is something, no?  
  
-Gollum got away from Legolas' people in Mirkwood and they were guarding him. The elves in Lorien did not even know he was nearby.  
  
-Pippin is still rather confused, I think. And...all I can say is read and see!  
  
-YAY! Another dwarf fancier. I am something of a closet one, but Gimli is pretty cool! If you like dwarves, I am actually thinking about writing a dwarf fic. In the verrry far off future!  
  
-thank you for correcting me on my timeline, I am far from perfect, and, admittedly, when I first read FotR, Lorien was where I got lost.  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit: "Hi, My name is Kookaburra"  
  
Crowd: "Hi, Kookaburra! Welcome!"  
  
"I- I have a problem with reviews. I will do anything for them. It was little things at first, it just started with one chapter of another author's story! But then it-it grew! Before I knew it, I was making outlines and uploading a chapter- more reviews came, and I COULDN'T STOP! I NEED A FIX! NOOOOWWWWW!!!! *is hauled off struggling and cursing by nice people in white coats* 


	31. Reunited

Reunited  
  
Moria's Revenge  
  
Chapter 31  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
Beta and additional material: Marigold  
  
A/N: Hello dear readers, thank you again to all who are sticking with me! I really do appreciate it!  
  
***  
  
Merry was not sure whether to wake Pippin up or let him go on sleeping. He was so restless and cried out every so often, it was obvious that he was having a nightmare. But on the other hand it had taken so long to calm him enough so that he could sleep, Merry thought that any sleep, even a nightmare would be better for Pippin than no rest at all.  
  
But he wouldn't rest. He owed that much and more to Pip, Merry thought. While his little cousin quivered and moaned in his dreams, he Meriadoc would watch over him and if he became too distressed then he could wake him.  
  
Merry remembered when Pippin had stayed at Brandy Hall as a youngling and had been given a bed in his room, how he had awoken him sobbing in the night. Merry had thought at first he was ill and had been about to fetch his Mamma when Pip had managed to choke out that he was crying because of the troll that had been waiting for them at Bucklebury Ferry. Merry was mystified by this and cuddling the little one closely, had asked him gently what he meant; there was no troll at the ferry.  
  
Pippin explained that his father had been complaining to his mother about it all the way to Buckland and said they shouldn't have to pay the troll. Merry puzzled for a moment and then realised Pip's confusion. "Oh it's a toll, Pippin - not a troll. It's just copper pennies you have to pay to get the ferryman to take you over the river."  
  
It took quite a bit more explanation, but Merry had finally convinced Pip that the ferryman was just making a living and was indeed not a troll, but a hobbit like him and would certainly not eat him or his parents or sisters. But Pippin still needed to sleep in Merry's bed with him and that had become the case from then on whenever the family visited. Merry wished that Pippin's nightmares could now be as easily comforted away.  
  
Pippin's dream had started happily enough. In the initial forgetfulness of sleep he saw Umumum running over a grassy plain - it looked like Green Hill Country by the Great Smials - she was going so fast he could not even get his pony to keep up. As she drew a long way ahead of him the white warg stopped and turned, waiting for him to catch up, her coat glimmering and her eyes shining. Although her tongue lolled out, she was hardly out of breath and was smiling happily at him, more like a great dog than a warg, with her bushy tail waving in the air.  
  
As he drew near to her, Pippin's pony suddenly reared and threw him before bolting off in terror. Umumum whirled round and was crouched before the hobbit in a second, her paws splayed out before her and her top lip snarling in anger.  
  
Pippin realised this was not directed at him and turned fearfully round to see the object of Umumum's anger. Two large orcs were coming towards them!  
  
Pippin whimpered fearfully in his sleep and in his dream. He clung to Icicle's white fur, but the warg pulled away from him as she leapt over his prone form and fell upon the first orc, her teeth going straight for his throat. She fought like a thing possessed, her body a white whirl of speed and teeth. But the second orc raised his bow and fired off an arrow that plunged deep into Umumum's heart.  
  
Pippin cried out, both in his sleep and in his nightmare. Merry soothed his head and whispered in his ear, "hush, sweet, don't fret, your Merry's here."  
  
The orc reached down and stroked his head, grinning into his face. "You're sweet, sweet and ripe and no one's here."  
  
The orc grabbed Pippin's hair now and lifted him off the ground, his feet dangling and kicking uselessly. He saw Umumum's dead body below him, the red blood spreading across her white coat until all he could see was red.  
  
Then he felt the orc begin to rip his clothes off using both its teeth and claws, tearing and snarling at him until he was completely naked and vulnerable. Once more he could feel the terrible collar around his neck and the orc that was holding him turned into Frugly and then the other two who had been with Frugly before were there with him.  
  
"So yer enjoyed yerself so much little Dogwhore, yers come back fer some more." Frugly sneered and began to loosen his member and thrust his hips towards Pippin with a sadistic leer on his face.  
  
"Please, not again, don't. I'll die, you'll split me in two." Pippin sobbed over and over. "No! Not again, not again. I know I'm bad, I'll be good, I promise, I'll be good."  
  
"Not good enough!" snarled Frugly and dropped Pippin to the floor so he landed on all fours. The hobbit felt himself scrabbling on the ground, trying to crawl away, but one of the other orcs had his foot on the leash attached to his collar and he couldn't move.  
  
Then he felt the orc hands all over him, touching him, hurting him, hitting him. A hand knotted in his curls pulling his head up and his jaw was dragged open. Two fists grabbed his hips from behind and he felt the first thrust.  
  
Pippin screamed!  
  
"Wake up, Pippin, wake up my lamb." Merry shook him now. "Don't fret, I'm here, open your eyes, come on my sweet."  
  
Pippin's eyes opened wide with terror, looking frantically around and still caught in the horror of the dream, so real it had seemed. Gradually he became aware that it was Merry who was shaking him awake and then holding him tightly in an embrace as he sobbed his anguish. "It's all right, Pippin, I'm here." Merry was whispering over and over again.  
  
"B-but you w-weren't Merry." Pippin finally managed to stutter a few words.  
  
"Yes, I've been right here with you all along, my Pip." Merry soothed. "I won't leave you - I promise."  
  
"B-but you w-weren't in my dr-dream Merry," Pippin drew a wrenching sigh, "You can't f-follow me there. and. it was. they came. again. oh Merry!"  
  
"It was just a dream, Pip." Merry hugged him and snuggled his head against Pippin's curls. "No one came in the room, it wasn't real, whatever it was didn't really happen."  
  
"But it d-did!" Pippin was still agitated. "It was Umumum and she was killed and then orcs came and got me and hurted me again. like they did! It did happen Merry. it did!"  
  
Merry did not know what to say to this. What Pippin said was true and he knew, had always known, that it was his fault. Everything that his little Pippin had suffered had been his fault and his alone. If he had taken better care of his cousin instead of being wrapped up in his own grief at losing Gandalf, Pippin would never have been stolen by the terrible orcs and it wouldn't have happened.  
  
"Pip, my love, I-I don't know what to say to you." Merry too had tears running down his cheeks now. "I know it happened and it shouldn't have and it was all my fault that it did and I'm so sorry Pip, so, so sorry. I made a dreadful mistake. I was bad, selfish and thoughtless and I don't deserve your forgiveness, so I won't ask for it. But Pip, in spite of what I let happen to you, I want you to know that I do love you so very much. I don't think I ever told you properly and when you were lost I kept thinking that I hadn't told you at all that I loved you and you might never know. You're my most precious little cousin and. and. I'll always love you. just that."  
  
Pippin sat opened-mouthed now, his sobbing halted by Merry's long speech. He spent a long time trying to digest all that Merry had just said. It had all come out so fast and seemed a little jumbled but what Pippin understood was that Merry blamed himself for everything that had happened and that he loved him.  
  
He took Merry's hand and looked at him with his head on one side. Merry was a picture of misery and was sniffing loudly as he tried to stifle his tears. "Merry, please don't cry." Pippin hated to see him so unhappy. "It couldn't have been your fault, you're not bad, you've never been bad."  
  
Merry looked up woefully shaking his head in despair, "It shouldn't have happened Pip, I shouldn't have lost you. It was unforgivable, and. and if I hadn't lost you. all those dreadful things wouldn't have happened. and now Umumum and. and. it's all my fault! I never told you before so I couldn't ask you to forgive me - and it would be too much to ask, but I want you to know I'd give anything for it not to have happened - anything!"  
  
"I know that!"  
  
Pippin's three simple words took Merry by surprise. "Pip?"  
  
"You told me." Pip snuggled his little body into his cousin's. "You wrote it all down for me Merry."  
  
Merry had not forgotten the poem he had written and given to Pippin, but in his mind it wasn't the same as actually saying something.  
  
Then Pippin added, "but I knew anyway. And how you feel. You love me and I love you, we always did and we always will." Pippin actually managed a small teary smile, "Anyway - our Mammas said we must!"  
  
Merry gave another sniff, wondering what had become of his handkerchief, but refraining from using the sleeve of his nightshirt. "And since when did you do what your Mamma said, Peregrin Took?" he teased.  
  
"Since she told me that." Pippin wriggled around in the bed now and felt under the pillow for his poem. "I know you mean all the words Merry" He said seriously now, "truly I do and it would be so nice to hear you read it out to me - even though it is very sad."  
  
"I know it's sad, but that was how I felt." Merry hugged Pippin now and managed a little smile himself. "Because it was so. so - sad. Is still sad."  
  
"But it wasn't your fault Merry. Please, please don't say it was or even think that it was. You saying that makes me so unhappy." Pippin held out the folded over paper with the poem on it. "You could read me the poem - but leave out the sad bits."  
  
Merry shook his head, "No I don't need the paper, Pip." Merry smiled, "I have it written right here." He patted his chest, "In my heart."  
  
"Will you say it then Merry?" Pippin spread out the paper on the big bed and as his cousin began to say the words he followed the poem with his finger - or tried to.  
  
"When we were young,  
  
our world was fine,  
  
I was yours  
  
and you were mine.  
  
"I paused for a moment -  
  
that's when you were lost,  
  
The mistake was mine,  
  
but you paid the cost.  
  
"I can't change what happened  
  
but you know it's true  
  
Pip, if I could  
  
then that's what I'd do.  
  
"But you survived  
  
because you were strong  
  
and came back to me  
  
where you belong.  
  
"And now you are here  
  
I promise to keep  
  
You safe by my side,  
  
awake or asleep.  
  
"Nothing will touch you  
  
nothing at all  
  
I'll hold you close  
  
and not let you fall.  
  
"You came back to me  
  
'cause you know I won't hurt you,  
  
Or make you feel sad,  
  
I'll never desert you.  
  
"I'll bake you a cake  
  
of laughter and fun,  
  
Paint you a world  
  
of big yellow sun.  
  
"Give you sweet dreams  
  
and make them come true,  
  
I'm sure I can Pip  
  
if they are for you.  
  
"We'll try only to laugh  
  
and never to cry,  
  
Same as we used to  
  
my Pip - you and I.  
  
"The love that I give you  
  
has only one measure  
  
It has no beginning  
  
and it ends with forever.  
  
"So here is my heart  
  
and if my soul endures,  
  
The Valar can't have it -  
  
because Pippin it's yours."  
  
When Merry had finished Pippin looked up at him with shining eyes, "Merry you changed it all. except the last bit."  
  
"I know, that's because things have changed. I meant what I wrote the first time and I mean this just as much." Merry put his arms around Pippin and snuggled down sleepily. "But I'll never change the last part, because I mean it more than ever. That's how much I love you, my Pip."  
  
Pippin snuggled down too, yawning sleepily. He knew that the nightmare was gone for tonight. He missed Umumum terribly, but Merry was here and would stay close and he knew Merry missed her too. If they dreamed together that might help to send good thoughts of her to wherever she was. Pippin just hoped and prayed that wherever it was, she was happy.  
  
0-****-0  
  
Icicle whined again, and her tail made a few weak thumps on the ground. As one, Gimli, Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas rushed towards her. Aragorn reached her first, then Legolas, and, as the elf supported her head, the ranger made a thorough examination. Except for a dusting of dried blood on her side, the warg was unscathed. The companions were all stunned into an awed silence to begin with, looking at one another in amazement.  
  
"Fair Lady, Worthy Haldir," Gimli's gravely baritone broke in on the silence. "Surely the Elven race is the most blessed of all peoples! To be witness to such a miracle is an honour above and beyond any I had ever imagined or hoped to receive."  
  
"I always thought that dwarves mined mithril, not used it to fashion their tongues!" laughed the Lady. "You are most eloquent Master Gimli, and you most certainly do deserve it for else the Valar would not have permitted you to witness to such an event." Galadriel looked around at all the other companions with an expression that indicated they were all indeed worthy to have seen such a miracle.  
  
Haldir looked up at this. The elf appeared somewhat shaken and his pallor indicated that although the Valar had allowed him to keep his immortality, they had used some of his strength to revitalise the warg.  
  
"I admit that I misjudged Master Gimli sorely. Nay! I did not judge him at all, only relied on clearly false preconceived notions of dwerrows, and for that I beg his forgiveness."  
  
Legolas watched this exchange, and at Haldir's apology, held his breath. 'Let not the stiff necks of the dwarves' surface now!' he begged the Valar. For he knew Gimli, and the dwarf was not one to give up grudges so easily. Yet he also knew Haldir, and he had *never* heard the proud Marchwarden of the Golden Wood offer an apology to anyone.  
  
Gimli was at a loss for words. He was actually being apologised to by an elf! And this elf, probably the proudest, most conceited elf in all of Middle Earth...'I cannot wait to get back and tell my father of this!' Briefly the thought flashed through his mind to simply dismiss the apology as unworthy of his attention - the humiliation of being singled out for conditional entry to the Golden Wood still galled - but Gloin had not brought his son up to be so base as that.  
  
"I accept your apology, Master Haldir." Gimli replied. "I understand that you were acting with the noblest of intentions. I must admit, I had harboured unworthy thoughts and ideas about the Firstborn. I see now they too were completely unfounded. I hope that this will signal the mending of the rift between our peoples."  
  
"I am sure it will, Son of Gloin." Galadriel smiled fondly down at Gimli. "Now I must bid you farewell. Haldir must have the honour of presenting the nestraden naneth to the tithen gem perian. The deed and petition was his." Then without a word, she turned and was gone, a golden sunbeam was all that was left where she had stood.  
  
After a few moments of silence, Boromir cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should take Lady Icicle down to the stream before making the long journey up to the talan? For it seems that the warg is weak in body. Perhaps some water would revive her."  
  
"And no small wonder that she is weary" exclaimed Legolas. The elf knelt down by Icicle's head and smiled when she thumped her tail again and licked his hand tentatively. "Where have you been wandering, mother?" he asked her, "What wonders could you tell us of?" Icicle simply whined again, and put her snowy head back down, clearly exhausted.  
  
Aragorn and Boromir lifted her, and the small troop went in search of the stream that sent gurgling sounds through the trees nearby. Legolas lent his support to Haldir, from whom the Valar had clearly taken some energy to resurrect Icicle.  
  
When they reached the stream, Icicle was able to stand and drink, but her legs quivered under her. When she was finished, she sat on the bank and whined.  
  
"What is it, Lady Wolf?" asked Haldir respectfully. Icicle did not show any signs of animosity for the elf's attack, she only wagged her tail harder and pushed her nose into his hand.  
  
"I will thought-link with her and find out," stated Legolas. "Do not look so alarmed, Haldir! I have done so before. Her mind is very ordered and serene for a beast. I am in no danger in her thoughts." With that, he sank into the partial trance, and entered the wolf's mental aura.  
  
First he sent a picture of Icicle herself, along with a questioning sensation. She responded with a picture of Pippin and a question of her own. Oh, of course. He could not feel any bodily injuries to the nestraden naneth but she was very anxious about the health of her cub. He sent a picture of Pippin curled up safe in an underground den. She mulled over the image, and then sent another. This one was of Frodo. Then another came of Frodo lying in a pool of blood, along with another wave of concern. Legolas had to consider how to convey that Frodo was not well, and might die. He decided that that was too complicated for right now, and added Frodo curled up with Pippin in the den. Icicle digested this one as well. Then the aura of her mind changed suddenly. She had sensed the mendacity in this image, and demanded the truth.  
  
Legolas was stunned. She had certainly not been able to do that before! So he fed her the real image, of Frodo, his chest rising and falling but still and pale with Sam sitting above him and weeping bitterly. Icicle accepted this image, and then sent another one of Pippin with her curled around him.  
  
Legolas deftly withdrew himself from her mind, and opened his eyes. Patting her on the head, he chuckled, "You do have a one purpose mind my Lady, do you not? Come," he said to the others. "Let us take her back to where she belongs, with her cubs!"  
  
0-****-0  
  
On the way up to the healing flet, they met Deilen and Silael in conference. Both were amazed at the story of the miracle, and Silael decided to continue with them, as he was due to check his patients, and Deilen descended to inform Melystra and others of the incredible happenings.  
  
When Aragorn became weary from carrying the warg's formidable weight, Boromir took her.  
  
He was bearing her when they came to the chambers. Icicle clearly recognised the rooms, and she wriggled and whimpered a little. Boromir gently set her down on the floorboards, where she swayed slightly, but remained upright.  
  
"When I left them, Merry and Pippin were in a deep slumber." whispered Silael. "Let us check on Samwise and Frodo, our passing their room will surely wake Sam, anyhow." the tall elf crossed the common room, and entered the chamber where they had left the Ringbearer. Aragorn and Legolas followed, and looked in through the doorway.  
  
They could see Sam, asleep on the bed next to Frodo, obviously ready to wake if there was any change in the frail hobbit's state. When Silael reached out to check Frodo's pulse, Sam's eyes flickered open.  
  
"Huh? Wha-..." Sam sat up and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. When he saw Silael, he asked, "Has there been any change, Sir? I've not hurt Mr. Frodo by sleepin' up here, have I?" Silael smiled at the concern evident in the small hobbit's eyes.  
  
"No, Samwise. It is good that you have remained close to your master. If he awoke it would comfort him a great deal to know that you were near." Sam smiled back in relief.  
  
"Good...er...Mornin'" Sam had to check the window to see if the salutation was correct- "Mr. Strider, Mr. Legolas. You've slept well?" The words were platitudes and Sam knew it, but they were all his emotionally exhausted mind could come up with.  
  
Aragorn sighed wearily. "I am afraid we have not once found our way to our beds this night. But Sam, something miraculous has occurred!" At that moment, Icicle poked her head in through the door. Sam's jaw nearly hit the floor.  
  
"But that's - it can't be- she's dead- I saw her-" He stammered.  
  
"Nay, Samwise." Legolas stemmed the flow of exclamations. "By the grace of the Valar, Lady Galadriel, and the courage of Master Haldir, Icicle has been returned from the halls of Mandos."  
  
Sam slid off the bed and walked tentatively towards Icicle. She perked up her ears in recognition and whined again. Sam was wonderstruck as he patted her soft head fur. She was solid and real and alive. His poor confused mind was spinning with the implications of it.  
  
"B-but how?" Sam asked, looking up at Aragorn.  
  
The Ranger smiled and knelt down, joining Sam in stroking Icicle's ruff.  
  
"Well, it just comes down to the incredible things that can happen when we forgive someone, Samwise..."  
  
"Is it - well I mean - is it some kind of - of magic?" Sam stammered with an embarrassed glance up at Haldir. His Gaffer had always told him that "real magick" was stuff and nonsense that the likes of him shouldn't be a'meddling with, but secretly Sam had always believed in enchantments and spells and so forth.  
  
Haldir smiled back, something he was becoming much more accustomed to doing. "The Valar intervened Master Samwise. It was obviously not her time to leave this world and so they returned her to us and most especially to young Master Peregrin."  
  
"Well I can see that would be a good thing." Sam agreed. "Does Mr. Pippin know yet?"  
  
"No, not yet." Aragorn straightened up from petting Icicle. "He and Merry are sleeping, but perhaps we, or rather Haldir, should take her to them without further delay. The warg mother grows anxious herself to see Pippin."  
  
"Will you come?" Haldir asked the others. He was still not entirely comfortable in the company of the hobbits - he found them in many ways childlike and yet profoundly wise in their simplicity.  
  
Legolas and Boromir accompanied him, whilst Aragorn stayed to see how Frodo was faring and Gimli went in search of sustenance for Icicle.  
  
Both the cousins were still sleeping when they entered the room, Merry protectively wrapping his arm around Pippin's body while he in turn snuggled into his cousin's side.  
  
"Should I wake them?" Haldir asked Legolas and Boromir, "they seem so peaceful."  
  
Before either the man or the elf could respond, Icicle settled the matter by jumping up on the bed to nuzzle and lick Pippin, as she whined a little in delight at finding her cub again. Merry awoke at once although Pippin, thoroughly exhausted by his earlier nightmare and tears slept on. He snuffled a little in his sleep and threw his arm unconsciously around Umumum as if she had never been gone.  
  
Merry sat up, his eyes wide and his jaw dropped down. "W-what. I don't understand. how is Icicle here?"  
  
"A request was made on behalf of the little one to the Valar," Haldir explained, "and in Their Wisdom and Grace it was granted - Icicle has been returned."  
  
"B-but it doesn't seem possible." Merry reached out a hand to touch the warm fur and drew back quickly as if it were hot. "She lives, but she was dead."  
  
"Haldir offered a great sacrifice to." Boromir began.  
  
"Peace, my friend," Haldir held up his hand. "Suffice it to say Meriadoc that the Valar have long guided the path of the mother warg. I know now that it was no accident that she was there to succour the little one in his hour of need. It is, I believe, Their will that she continue to care for and protect him."  
  
"Did. did you ask Them. I mean the Valar. did you a-ask Them to do this?" Merry stammered in awe. "You must be a truly important and special elf to speak with the Valar, Haldir."  
  
"Not I Master Merry," Haldir smiled at the halflings reverence to him. "I think rather it is your young cousin that has Their ear."  
  
Pippin smiled in his sleep as Umumum continued to lick him and eventually he opened his eyes and blearily peeped around him. At first he shut his lids again, mumbling contentedly in the warg's ear, "Umumum that tickles." Then his hand suddenly groped at the white fur and his eyes shot open wider than wide and he gave a small squeal of delight and astonishment. "Umumum! Umumum! Merry how? What happened?"  
  
Merry held his hand and steadied Pip by his shoulder. He could feel the excitement, mingled with fear and wonder coursing through Pippin's body and in his face he could see utter confusion. Merry felt much the same way himself. "It's all right Pip, really it is. Umumum's been sent back to you, because, because. well Haldir says it's because you're really special and important to the Valar."  
  
Pippin looked at the two elves and Boromir and then back at Merry in bewilderment and whispered, "what does he mean Merry? I'm not special or important, I'm just Pippin, aren't I?"  
  
Haldir had heard the sotto voce question, " Little one," he said softly, bending down to be level with Pippin, "you are very special and the Valar have given back the life of your beloved warg for that reason."  
  
"I don't understand what you mean." Pippin's brow furrowed in dismay, he turned to his cousin and whispered. "What do I have to do, Merry? I don't think I could be brave like Frodo or clever like you or do any of the things Sam does, how do I have to be special?"  
  
Merry shook his head and shrugged a little. "I'm not sure Pip, don't worry perhaps Mister Haldir can explain what you have to do. Perhaps I can help you, whatever it is."  
  
Legolas and Boromir exchanged glances and smiled a little. They both tacitly decided that Haldir was on his own. The tall elf turned to them with a pleading look and both the Prince of Mirkwood and the Son of Gondor shook their heads and retreated a little, but not so far they could not eavesdrop.  
  
"Peregrin - Pippin, you don't have to do anything." Haldir began. "Just get well again and carry on being you. The Valar say that you are special and that - well for that reason They sent Icicle - Umum to you to take care of you when - when the orcs had you. They could not stop what was happening, but They wanted you to survive and sent what little comfort They could in the form of the nestraden naneth - that's Umum - and that's why she cared for you. When I shot her it was too great an ill for you to bear and too dire an end for her to meet. The Valar wanted you to have her back. Do you understand?"  
  
Pippin looked at Haldir and blinked a little. "If I don't understand can Umumum still stay? Do I have to understand for her to be alive?"  
  
"No," Haldir sighed a little realising that he may have to be content with the hobbits not really comprehending but accepting it anyway. "You don't need to do anything, Pippin. She is alive and can stay with you."  
  
"Really? She is really back? It's not a dream?" Pippin hugged the warg around her big ruff of a neck and snuggled his face into her fur.  
  
"Yes, Pippin," Haldir confirmed. "It's not a dream and she can stay and you are, I promise you, very, very special."  
  
Pippin sighed contentedly as he lay carefully down curling into Umumum's warm body with Merry beside him also wrapped around the warg and him. He had so many good things now. Merry loved him, Umumum was alive and apparently he was special - whatever that meant.  
  
***  
  
TBC... 


	32. Awakened

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 32: Wakened  
  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
  
Beta and Additional Material Marigold  
  
Feedback: p_holbytla@earthlink.net  
  
***  
  
Frodo was floating on a sea of mist. The weight that had been on his chest was gone, and it was no longer tempting to give up trying to breathe. The pain was much less too, just a minor annoyance in the back of his mind. There were voices...faint murmurings that should have meant something to him, but did not.  
  
He strained to open his eyes, but apparently someone had sewn them shut. The confusing babble around him slowly became understandable and finally he was able to catch part of a phrase.  
  
"...the incredible things that can happen when we forgive someone, Samwise..." The voice was familiar, and Frodo's sluggish mind thought hard and eventually labelled the speaker as Aragorn.  
  
"Is it - well I mean - is it some kind of - of magic?" Samwise? Sam. That was Sam's voice. Oh, how he needed Sam right now. It was such a struggle to just remain conscious, but whatever was wrong with him he knew his Sam would help him through it. There was another voice as well, an elvish voice that Frodo thought he should recognize but could not quite place, and he could sense that several others, friends he thought, were in the room with him besides, but he could not open his eyes to see who they were.  
  
He heard the sounds of people leaving and fought to make some sound or movement to attract their attention. 'No! Don't leave me alone!' Frodo thought frantically. Then he heard muffled speech coming from somewhere across the room and realized he had not been left completely alone. There was still Sam's voice and Aragorn's. Were they speaking about him? He thought he could just make out his name in their hushed conversation, but still, try as he might he could make no response. He wanted to call out to them but he seemed to have been stricken mute as well as blind. The weary hobbit made one more colossal effort to open his eyes. This time they revealed the merest sliver of light, the brightness of which hurt his head, yet he stubbornly refused to close them again. Redoubling his efforts, Frodo managed to open his eyes just about halfway. It was now much easier to keep them open, and as his pupils adjusted to the light in the chamber, he looked around, wondering where he was, using just his eyes as he seemed unable to move his head. He was just able to make out Aragorn rummaging in a sideboard with his back to Frodo.  
  
As his senses returned more fully Frodo realized he was on his back, seemingly very high up in a vast bed. Not a hobbit bed then he thought, then realized what a silly thought that was. It seemed years since he had slept in the comfort of a real hobbit sized bed. The intricately carved ceiling was certainly of Elvish craftsmanship but this was not Rivendell... it was... Lórien. They had reached Lórien hadn't they? Yes, that was where they were. But this was not the pavilion he had been sharing with his companions. This looked strangely like a part of the healing quarters where he had spent so much time with Pippin.  
  
He wanted to crane his neck and investigate his surroundings further, but that part of his body didn't seem to work. In fact, he realized, fighting down a growing sense of panic, none of his body seemed to want to work. He tried vainly to move just a finger, but the stubborn digit remained steadfastly still on the coverlet. It was as if his mind was trapped in someone else's body, a body that refused to obey his commands.  
  
How had he come to be here? Something must have happened to him. Had he fallen ill? He remembered playing with Pippin, and then settling down in a chair for the night to keep watch over his small cousin. But what had happened after that? Something bad. Something bad had happened. He forced himself to concentrate on the memory that was teasing the edges of his consciousness, a frightening memory.  
  
Gollum! Frodo remembered in panic what had befallen. Gollum had tried to take the Ring from him! He knew without having to touch the evil thing that the foul creature had not succeeded in his attempt. Frodo still felt the weight around his neck, and heard clearly the constant whispering in his recesses of his mind. Gollum had failed...but how? Obviously Frodo had fallen in the sly being's attack. Yet he had been saved. The Ring had been saved. How?  
  
Icicle! It must have been she! Frodo suddenly remembered a blur of white and a fantastic roar accompanied with the sound of splintering wood just before all went dark. That had to be the answer. Gollum had tried to take the Ring, Frodo had fallen, injured, and Icicle had saved him. Saved the Ring. Saved everything. Frodo felt relief at having finally been able to piece together the events in his befuddled state, but that did not come close to the relief he felt that Gollum had not succeeded. He owed Icicle a debt he could never hope to repay.  
  
But now for a more imperative task. He needed somehow to get the attention of Aragorn and Sam. Did they know what had happened? Frodo did not trust his voice and swallowed a few times, to make sure his throat would carry a sound other than a hoarse wheeze.  
  
"Srri-er..."  
  
"Mr. Frodo!" Sam exclaimed at the sound of the weak voice coming from the bed that was above his eye level.  
  
Aragorn whirled around and found himself looking at a very awake Frodo. The ranger smiled broadly and crossed to the bedside, taking Frodo's hand.  
  
"Frodo! What a relief that you are finally back with us! We were worried for you my friend. Can you tell me how you feel?"  
  
"Cnn't mmvve..." Frodo mumbled. It was too difficult to move even his lips any more than he had to.  
  
"It's primarily exhaustion, Frodo. Do not fear, it will pass. Sam!" Strider looked down below Frodo's field of vision. "Run please, and fetch Silael!"  
  
Sam was out of the room in a heartbeat calling as he went, "Mr Silael! Mr Silael!" Crossing the common hall in a few strides, he flung open the curtain to the chamber where Pippin was being reunited with his warg. Legolas and Boromir started when he entered, so focused were they on the touching scene playing out before them. Haldir had just got up off his knees and was giving a final pat to both Icicle and Pippin alike.  
  
"Samwise! What brings you in such haste?" queried Silael.  
  
"It's Frodo!" was all Sam could manage, "He's awake! Mr. Strider said to fetch you!"  
  
"Steady young Samwise, I'm on my way." Before the healer could so much as take a step, Sam gasped his thanks and turned and ran back as quickly as he had left and was back beside his master in a moment. A russet mass of curls bobbed over the edge of the bed as Sam jumped up and down, trying to catch a glimpse of Frodo. "Don't worry, Mr. Frodo! Your Sam's here!"  
  
Aragorn smiled, and picked Sam up and set him on the bed. Frodo's heart lifted at the sight of his faithful servant's homely face. The ranger then turned back to Frodo and, clasping his hand again, began asking him questions.  
  
"What's your name, little one?"  
  
Well, this was silly! Why was Aragorn asking him this? However, Frodo trusted the man with his life, and decided that whatever Aragorn asked him was done for good reason.  
  
"Fr-od-" speaking was becoming easier, as he became more alert, and his voice began to recover from disuse.  
  
"What's my name?"  
  
"Rrragrrn..." Aragorn put a hand on Sam's shoulder as the gardener sat beaming down at his master.  
  
"Who is this?"  
  
This time Frodo concentrated on enunciating each sound.  
  
"Ssam." Aragorn smiled. Frodo was becoming more and more coherent. Time now for one more test. He brought his hand up and spread his fingers.  
  
"How many fingers am I holding up?" Frodo squinted a bit but could see all the digits.  
  
"f-five..."  
  
"And now?"  
  
"th..th..three..."  
  
"That is excellent Frodo." Aragorn gave Frodo's hand a brief squeeze.  
  
At that moment Silael arrived in the chamber, "How is Frodo, Estel?" the healer asked.  
  
"It has just been a few moments since he awakened." Aragorn said smiling. "He knows who he is and who Sam and I are." Silael was already leaning over the bed and taking Frodo's limp hand. "I also gave him a finger test, and he can see clearly, and comprehend."  
  
"You did well, Estel. Now," Silael smiled down on the pair of droopy blue eyes that looked at him from under the mop of curly dark hair. "How are you feeling, Frodo?"  
  
Frodo's throat hurt too much from his earlier attempts at vocalising, but he managed a weak smile.  
  
Silael smiled back, and began a gentle examination of all of Frodo's hurts. The battered hobbit allowed himself to drift in and out of consciousness, soothed by Sam's warm hand stroking his chilled one.  
  
0-****-0  
  
Pippin turned his face up from Icicle's lush fur.  
  
"Merry! Did Sam say that Frodo is awake?" Pippin's eyes shone with hope and excitement, but waited for Merry to confirm it before he would let himself truly believe that the news was real. "Yes Pip - You heard right. Frodo is awake!"  
  
Merry stroked Pippin's cinnamon curls as he smiled down at his young cousin. He understood why Pippin might be afraid to believe his own ears. Many good things seemed to be coming true at once, and Pip needed to be reassured that all of them were real. So many bad things had happened to the lad that it was no wonder that it was sometimes difficult for him to accept that the good things happening now were reality, and not part of a dream.  
  
Merry smiled at Pippin's resiliency, wondering that his cousin was able to trust in hope at all after all that had happened to him recently. He was so proud of Pip.  
  
The youngest member of the Fellowship had grown up a lot during the Quest, trying as best he could to be counted worthy enough to be included among such doughty warriors, despite his tender youth. Merry had seen Pippin maturing before his eyes, going from grumbling about walking so far every day, to packing half his weight in supplies and firewood up a mountain in a blizzard with nary a word of complaint.  
  
Now, because of the terrible setback he had suffered at the hands of the orcs, Pip had lost some of the maturity he had gained. Merry recognized that his little cousin had made incredible progress from the broken and incoherent mite they had rescued from the orcs of Moria, and hoped that soon Pip would regain the ground that he had lost. Merry had of course loved the childlike Pip from their carefree days in the Shire. He admired the way the responsible Pip, the youngster that had developed over the course of their journey, had kept those carefree childlike qualities but then integrated them into his maturing personality. Merry hoped that Pippin would soon be able to achieve that happy balance again, and continue to move forward. But whatever happened, Merry would love him. He was his Pippin.  
  
Merry squeezed his little cousin a bit tighter- Pippin was here beside him, and Merry would never let anyone take Pippin away from him again - no matter what.  
  
"Mer-ry." Pippin giggled, "You're pinching." The smaller hobbit squirmed a bit to loosen Merry's hold. Merry reluctantly acquiesced, but Pippin kept up his squirming until his face was nuzzling into Icicle's belly.  
  
Ah, of course, Merry reasoned, Pippin wanted to nurse for comfort after being separated from his surrogate mother for so long. While Merry was overjoyed that Icicle lived again, and was able to offer Pippin love and comfort, he was certain that actually nursing would be a step backwards and thought that the habit was a big part of the reason that Pippin was not really getting any better in his mind. He needed to be weaned off the warg if he was going to recover completely.  
  
However, Merry didn't yet have the heart to try and convince Pippin that the one source of "safe" love other than himself should not nourish him anymore. Icicle though, apparently understood as well and abruptly stood up and, while she did not remove herself from Pippin's side, moved to a position that denied him the opportunity to nurse. Pippin raised his head, bewildered, a slightly hurt expression on his face.  
  
"Umumum?" He asked tentatively. Icicle whined and turned around, licking his face and whuffling into his hair. Pippin did not force the issue and settled down to rest his drowsy head against her. Icicle then raised her head and met Merry's eyes. A look of understanding passed between Pippin's two protectors, and Merry smiled, curled up himself next to Pippin and the warg, and closed his own eyes.  
  
0-****-0  
  
Gimli left Pippin and Merry's chamber after bringing Icicle some prime cuts of venison. Merry had awakened when Gimli had entered with the platter of cubed meat, and while Icicle ate hungrily in one corner of the room the older hobbit had filled him in on Pippin's reaction to the return of the warg. Gimli, too, thought it a very positive thing that young Peregrin not revert back to depending on Icicle's milk for sustenance, but understood that it would be hard for the lad. Everything happening to, and around him, must be overwhelming for the little hobbit. Gimli thought about the effect Pippin had on him. The dwarf was not used to feeling this protective over anything but gold and silver, and the emotions he felt troubled him and made him want to do his own part to bring the lad along the path to wellness. Well, then he, Gimli son of Gloin would take action! Without the warg's nourishment, Pippin would need to eat something else, and the bits of fruit that he had been nibbling would soon cease to content him. Gimli decided that he would be the one to provide something that would make the little chap's eyes light up with delight.  
  
"Boromir, Legolas." Gimli halted in the middle of the common chamber where the other two were seated. "I think we ought to find something for Pippin to eat, other than fruit that is. Lady Icicle seems to think he should be weaned."  
  
"And it's high time, too." Said Aragorn, pushing the curtain to Frodo's room open and emerging into the common area. "Icicle is wise. Peregrin needs to move forward, not back. I think that to a hobbit food might be instrumental in helping with his recovery. It's a well known saying in the Shire that 'food cooked with skill will cure every ill'."  
  
Legolas chuckled softly at Aragorn's knowledge of Shire homilies. "Well then, oh Wise Ranger of the North," he quipped, "what culinary delicacies would a hungry young prince of periain such as he that currently resides in yonder room require?"  
  
Now it was Aragorn's turn to laugh. When he had first learned the common speech, Elrond had taught him a rather archaic version. After all, to the ancient elf, the sands of human time moved too quickly to try and keep up with the changing vernacular. Legolas, having dealt with the businessmen of Esgaroth, was better versed in the more modern version of the tongue. The first time he had visited Imladris and heard the young Estel speaking archaic common, the elf had doubled over in laughter. The thought of the heir to the throne of Gondor speaking in the way of the outrageously pompous Mayor of Laketown was too much. Even after many years of friendship, Legolas was still able to get great amusement out of teasing Aragorn about it.  
  
The ranger gave the elf a mock glare. "Perhaps you could see if you could find some mushrooms. While the elves seldom harvest them, I know there are many edible varieties to be found in this wood."  
  
"That's all very well and good," interjected Boromir. "but have any of us the knowledge of which ones they are? I know you do, Aragorn, but I speak for all of us when I say that you should stay here and get some rest. You are exhausted and must sleep and here you can be close at hand to help with the hobbits if you are needed." Gimli and Legolas nodded their agreement.  
  
"Boromir," Gimli rumbled. "You should stay too. I know that humans need sleep after only one or two days. Besides, you, of all of us, are the one the younger hobbits are closest to save Aragorn. It would be good if you were on hand as well."  
  
Boromir was about to reply indignantly that he most certainly could go another day without sleep, but the retort was cut off by an immense yawn. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, he nodded a bit sheepishly.  
  
"All right, I will stay...for the hobbits." Legolas had to suppress a grin - even after weeks of travelling with intimate companions, Boromir still had trouble admitting to them when he was not physically able to do something- such as stay awake for several days. After saying their farewells to the two humans, the elf and dwarf made their way down the winding staircase in search of a cooking area.  
  
Chatting amiably as they descended through the golden mists that hung at midlevel to the towering mallorns, neither companion noticed Haldir running down the stairs lightly after them until the elf of Lórien was almost to them.  
  
"Greetings, Legolas, Gimli." Haldir said with no sign of breathlessness. "Estel informed me that you two are looking for a place to make a meal for young Pippin."  
  
"Aye, it is true Master Haldir, and I am afraid your elven labyrinth, fair as it may be, has thoroughly turned this dwarf around. I was hoping Legolas knew where we were going."  
  
"Err, of course I do, Friend Gimli." Legolas huffed with a slightly affronted look on his face.  
  
"Actually, the common area is above. You missed the path to them three spirals up." Haldir said, trying to keep a smile from his lips. "I have left Master Samwise to await you above at the place where three paths meet. Take the one to the left. Estel thought it would be good for Samwise to do something other than sit and wait for Frodo to awaken again. When you reach the kitchens, he can assist you to make a true halfling meal, to bring some memory of home to them all."  
  
0-****-0  
  
"Sospan kach yn beri ar a t-n!" sang Gimli merrily as he chopped the mushrooms using his smallest hatchet, first removing the stalk, which he sliced crosswise, and then moving to the dome of the fungus, which was neatly quartered, then divided into four and four again.  
  
Sam watched with his head on one side and his lip firmly buttoned as he checked the Dwarf's progress on dealing with the large snake butter mushrooms. They were abundant in Lórien, and grew to enormous proportions and Mister Haldir had directed that a large basket be brought to the kitchen for the guests. Sam had often prepared them for Frodo in Bag End, and thought that if Strider wanted Pippin to eat them for his disease, then Sam would make sure he would slip them in every dish he could without the young Took realising he was taking medicine. However, he had never seen them prepared with an axe before.  
  
"Very well Master Gamgee," Gimli spotted Sam watching him intently. "Shall I make the pastry next?"  
  
"Well it needs quite a delicate touch," Sam ventured nervously. He was not sure he altogether approved of the dwarf's cooking methods. In fact, Sam rarely approved of anyone's cooking methods with the possible exception of his own Gaffer and farmer Cotton's Missus, both of whom had taught Sam his cooking. "I'm not even sure there is a rolling pin here, so the pastry will just have to be stretched.  
  
"I think we can manage," Gimli looked into the bowl in which Sam had mixed together the fat and flour. "Let me feel your hands."  
  
Sam looked at the dwarf with even more surprise, but obediently held out his hand to Gimli who felt it knowingly and then touched the fingers to his cheek. "Hmm." Gimli pondered, "a little warm. "Dunk your hands in cold water for a moment," he suggested, "and then dry them off before you rub the mixture together. Or better still let me do it, my hands are far cooler."  
  
"But Mr Gimli, I'm supposed to." Sam stopped as he realised that the dwarf was already intent upon his purpose. Gimli rinsed his hands then removed the bowl from Sam and deftly began to rub the flour and fat together between his fingers and thumbs into a crumbly type mixture while the hobbit once again bit his lip and watched with renewed anxiety.  
  
But there was no need. Gimli added a touch of water, bound the mixture together with a fork, then shook a little flour onto the clean board before turning out the pastry and patting it into a perfect round. "The trick now, young hobbit," Gimli was obviously in his element, "is to only roll it once or it gets tough!" He took a bottle from a shelf, scalded it in hot water then dried it, "this makes a good rolling pin, Sam," he said. Then deftly, and very quickly, rolled the pastry into an almost perfect circle. "There you are Master Gamgee, will that do?"  
  
Sam was finally hit with the realisation that Gimli really knew his business, "Err um, yes Mister Gimli, that's very good," the hobbit stammered in surprise.  
  
Leaving the dwarf to his work Sam looked over at Legolas, who was watching Sam's bubbling sauce, which was intended for the filling of the large mushroom pie. Well, he was supposed to be watching anyway. A lady elf with long golden hair and wearing a purple dress had entered the kitchens and Legolas was engaged in conversation with her, but he was not paying attention to...  
  
"The sauce! Mister Legolas!" Sam cried, as the glutinous mass rose at an alarming rate from depths of the pot, which was hanging over the fire.  
  
Not thinking about much beyond getting the filling off of the fire Legolas grabbed the pot off the hook - but with no protective cloth over his hands. Perhaps he was relying on his elven insensibility to temperature. However, even elven fingers have their limits.  
  
With a yelp, the Prince of Mirkwood dropped the boiling pot, and Sam felt a cry of despair well up from his lungs, as he watched the pot with its precious contents head for the ground.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry Sam," Legolas was mortified. "I'm afraid I've ruined your sauce."  
  
"Never mind," Sam grumped, "I can easily make some more."  
  
"No, I insist," Legolas went to the table where Gimli had left the neatly sliced mushrooms. "Let me make a new sauce. Tell me how were you going to cook the mushrooms anyway?"  
  
"Well, I thought I'd just stew them in a few herbs." Sam was envisioning his perfect pie meeting with ruin and disaster. In spite of the fact Gimli had proved to be a master of the kitchen there was no proof the elf had any culinary skills. All the Fellowship had allowed Sam to do most of the cooking during their journey, although he was beginning to wonder if they just let him because it pleased the hobbit to have a special responsibility.  
  
"How about we cook the mushrooms and make the sauce around them?" Legolas suggested taking a large skillet from a hook. "I promise it will be quite delicious."  
  
Sam eyed the elf with renewed suspicion. "Won't they get burnt before the sauce is done?" The Gaffer had always insisted he cook mushrooms with the greatest of care, never to waste a single morsel.  
  
"No Sam," Legolas put a large quantity of butter into the deep pan and shook it around as it melted over the fire. "Not as long as you keep them moving." He added pepper and salt plus a handful of herbs, shook a little more, then swept the mushrooms in to join the other ingredients. There was a fine sizzle and Legolas nimbly moved the pan from the heat so that the contents did not catch. He continued to heat and shake and until the mushrooms turned a golden brown.  
  
"But what about the sauce?" Sam asked. He had never made sauce in this particular way before and could not see how it would all work together.  
  
"Some flour now please." Legolas pointed. Sam passed him the bag and the elf scooped a generous portion into the fried mushrooms. He stirred busily, never letting the contents rest for a moment.  
  
Once the flour was thoroughly cooked and blended Legolas returned the pan to the heat and nodded towards a flagon in the corner. "If you would be so good Gimli?" The dwarf obliged and brought the wine over to the fire and the elf poured a little wine into the mixture causing a brief fizz of activity. He expertly swirled the mushrooms with a spatula then handed the flagon to Gimli.  
  
"A little at a time?" the dwarf asked knowingly. Legolas nodded and Gimli poured a little fluid, sometimes wine but more often milk, into the pan while the elf stirred rapidly. Sam watched with fascination as the flour mixture around the mushrooms gradually became a smooth white sauce.  
  
"Here Sam," Legolas removed the pan from the heat and took a little sauce on the spoon and offered it to the hobbit. "Would you like to taste?"  
  
Sam took the spoon and sniffed it first then put the tip of his tongue in the smooth mixture. His worst suspicions were confirmed! It was the best sauce he had ever tasted. "That's really very. err um. very good isn't it, Mister Legolas." Suddenly Sam felt embarrassed at his own humble plain cooking.  
  
"You don't think it will be too rich then?" Legolas looked at the hobbit, his head querulously on one side. "For Pippin I mean."  
  
"We-ll, maybe a tad rich, what with him being an invalid still and only used to Icicle's milk and fruit and such." Sam thought carefully, he had to admit he was a little miffed at being out-cooked by the elf and the dwarf, but on the other hand it was very useful to learn some new cooking techniques and he imagined himself back in Mrs Cotton's kitchen showing her how to make mushroom sauce the elvish way. "But he does need to start eating different things and this is mighty tasty!"  
  
"Good!" Legolas emptied the mixture into a dish that Gimli had placed on the table and then watched as the dwarf expertly rolled his bottle across the pastry rolling it round the bottle as he did so and then unrolled it neatly across the top of the dish making a perfect pie. Legolas then trimmed and crimped the remaining pastry and, with the remnants, fashioned a pretty pastry leaf motif, which he sat atop the pie.  
  
As the elf popped it in the oven aside the fire, Sam scratched his head and sighed at their artistry. "That's a work of art, I must say, my Gaffer will be proud of me when I cook him such a pie!"  
  
0-****-0  
  
Pippin smiled in his sleep. He was in the middle of one of the first pleasant dreams he'd had since leaving Moria. The dream was actually a cross between reality and slumber, as such things often are. In his mind he was snug in the curve of Umumum's belly with Merry, only the size of actual wargcubs. And Umumum, kept licking his head and neck in such a soothing way, over and over. He was warm, comfortable, and safe. The only disappointing sensation was the growing emptiness in his stomach. Eventually his hunger was such that he stirred, woke, and yawned.  
  
At Pippin's movement, Merry came to full wakefulness as well. He blinked away the bleariness of sleep from his eyes and looked around the small room. The two hobbits and the warg were the only ones present; all of their attendants had left them in peace for now.  
  
"Merry," Pippin complained. Merry turned and was greeted with the sight of Pippin attempting to turn Icicle onto her side, but the warg was steadfastly remaining on her belly. "I'm hungry. Umumum won't turn over!" Pippin was clearly getting a bit desperate. The rising panic in his voice was unmistakable. Merry scooted over to his cousin and wrapped his arms about Pippin.  
  
"There, there, Pippin. Don't fret so." he soothed. Pippin ceased struggling. " I think it's time you stopped feeding from Umumum. See? Even she thinks so. She thinks you're a big cub now, and big cubs don't need mother's milk." Pippin sniffled a little, and then sat quietly for a few moments, looking at Icicle while Merry stroked his short curls reassuringly.  
  
"But I didn't feel big."  
  
Merry wondered if he'd heard that right. Pippin had whispered the words so softly. "What was that, Pip?"  
  
"I didn't feel big, Merry," said Pippin, just above a whisper this time, looking at Icicle still.  
  
"When didn't you feel big, Pippin?" Merry was now thoroughly confused, and wondered what in Middle Earth Pippin was talking about.  
  
Pippin hung his head and played with a loose thread on the silk nightshirt's hem. "When I was in-" Pippin's voice spoke haltingly, as if it were a struggle to force the words out. "wh-when I was in the bad place, Merry. With the orcs." Pippin added in the barest whisper. "They were so b- big, an- an- and I w-was so small...." Pippin's shoulders began to shake as silent sobs racked his frame.  
  
"Oh! oh, oh Pippin," Merry breathed, gathering his cousin and cradling the shaking form in his arms. "Shhh... don't worry, you're safe here, nothing will get you, shh..."  
  
"B-but Merry, before.something d-did get me! When I-I got l-lost, and I couldn't f-find you, an-and then the orcs found me!" Pippin's throat closed and the end of the sentence was lost in a terrified squeak. He turned and leaned into Merry's comforting embrace, and reached up a small hand to grasp the material of Merry's nightshirt in a clenched fist, as if he was afraid that his cousin might disappear. After several shaking breaths, he continued:  
  
"Th-th-they were so big, M-Merry! So big!" Pippin gulped and turned his wide, tear-filled, peridot eyes up to Merry. "And, strong! oh, they were so - so strong M-Merry! I tried to m-make them stop, but I just couldn't! I just couldn't! An-and they b-beat me, and h-h-hit me everso, everso hard!" Pippin choked another sob. Icicle whined and wriggled around on the bed so that she could nuzzle her adopted cub. Pippin continued in a high pitched whisper: "Th-then they, they t-tied me on a rock, an-and I was so scared, Merry! I tried to be brave, Merry, but I was so scared! And th-th-then they lay on top of m-me, and they, and they... Oh, Merry! They were so heavy! And I couldn't breathe, or think or move or anything!" Pippin wailed into Merry's chest, unable to find the words to describe what had happened to him.  
  
Merry was speechless with horror at what his young, innocent Pippin had just told him. He hugged Pippin even tighter. After swallowing a few times, he said hoarsely, "Hush now, Pip, I'm here, we're all here now. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to..."  
  
"B-but I do want to, Merry!" mumbled Pippin, his voice muffled by Merry's gown. "I-it hurts so much," Pippin placed his free hand over his rapidly beating heart. "in here. It's so big that I have to let it out, an-and then it might stop hurting...." Pippin looked up at Merry again, with pleading eyes. "It'll stop hurting, won't it Merry? Please say it'll stop hurting! Please..."  
  
Merry pushed his face into Pippin's curls, breathing in the scent and trying to think clearly. It seemed so surreal, that such dreadful things could have happened to his little, guileless beloved Pip. After several deep breaths, he tilted Pippin's head back and looked into his face. "I don't know, Pip. I don't know if it will stop hurting, or when. But you know if I can help stop it, I will." Merry placed his hand on top of Pippin's, which was still over his little cousin's heart. "I promsis!" Merry used a mispronunciation Pippin had carried when a small hobbit-child, that had ever after been reserved for sacred childhood oaths. Pippin smiled up at Merry when he heard it. The word brought back happy memories that seemed far away now. Memories of golden sun, green fields and sparkling waters. Of laughter, family, and safety. Pippin sighed once more.  
  
"Merry?"  
  
"Yes, Pip?"  
  
"Do- do you think you could read me your poem again? Once more? Please?"  
  
"Of course, Pip. As many times as you like."  
  
0-****-0  
  
A/N: Hello all, this is just a warning to say that I am going to be moving these chapters onto my R-rated repost of MR on ff.net. If you click the link to my author bio page, you should be able to find it with a minimum of hassle. If anyone needs help doing this, say so in the review section, or drop me a line at p_holbytla@earthlink.net  
  
Or you could just leave a review anyway? Anyone? You have no idea how it inspires me to write when people leave reviews. You don't even have to sign it. just say, "I am reading this, and it is (pick one) a) tripe b) garbage c) fair d) good. Even flames are welcome, I just want to know that people have looked at this. Thanks!  
  
Also, Llinos, Marigold, and I recently finished an original fantasy children's story called "The Suppertime Dragon". If any of y'all could go and read it, I'd be greatly obliged! 


	33. Decided

Moria's Revenge: Chapter 33 - Decided  
  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
  
Beta: Marigold  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or any of the characters.  
  
***  
  
Melystra smiled as she entered the bedchamber where Aragorn and Boromir were taking their rest. Both men were sound asleep and she moved silently, as only an elf can, to lay the bundle of clothes for Peregrin on the foot of the ranger's bed.  
  
As Melystra laid the neat bundle on the counterpane, the slight weight upon the man's foot had an alarming result. Aragorn turned abruptly, rolling from the bed and drawing his dagger in the same instant, until he was crouched alert and ready to kill, facing the startled elven healer. For a heartbeat his face was drawn into a snarl, but replaced almost immediately with a look of contrition as soon as he realised who the intruder was.  
  
"My apologies, fair lady," Aragorn lowered the dagger and bowed his head. "Many years of sleeping in the wild have indoctrinated habits which are difficult to break."  
  
"No, it is I who should apologise," Melystra had not thought for a moment that her light footfalls or discreet placing of the parcel would wake anyone. "I did not mean to disturb you."  
  
Boromir too, was by now awake, although not as primed for attack as Aragorn, he was, like most soldiers, a light sleeper. "It is no matter," he stretched his arms, "I am sure it is time for us to rise, we must have slept long enough for the meal to be ready."  
  
"What is in the parcel?" Aragorn fingered the neatly wrapped bundle. "Pippin's clothes?"  
  
"Yes," Melystra confirmed, "not only his old things, washed and repaired, but also some clothing that should fit him should he not wish to wear the garments he had on when he was attacked."  
  
"You are very wise," Aragorn smiled at the beautiful elven woman, "I had thought to offer him his old clothes, but he may well reject them."  
  
"I have knitted him some new stockings as well," Melystra gave a small laugh, "I fear yours will be something of a handicap to the perian should he try to walk far."  
  
Aragorn smiled in return at the thought; "Yes they are rather large for him. You are most kind."  
  
-0****0-  
  
Aragorn and Boromir entered the chamber where they had left Pippin, Merry, and Icicle. Merry was leaning against Icicle, while Pippin was leaning against Merry, the former's arms snugly around his waist. Pippin held a sheet of paper in his hands, following lines of script with his finger while Merry whispered into a little pointed ear. All three raised their heads at the intrusion.  
  
"Hello Merry, Pippin," Aragorn gave an elegant bow to the warg, "Milady Icicle". He smiled at the hobbits, "How are you feeling, Pippin?" The ranger moved over to the bedside and took Pippin's wrist, checking his pulse.  
  
Pippin glanced at Merry, still not always sure when he was allowed to talk, and when he was not. Merry gave him a nod and a nudge for reassurance. "I-I feel...um..." Pippin was unsure what to say. He did not feel 'good', as he still hurt badly in many places, and he did not feel 'bad' as he was with Merry and Umumum. "...better." He finally said. It was the truth. He felt better than he had when he was with the orcs, after all.  
  
Aragorn realised that he would have to be more specific with Pippin. The ranger settled himself on the edge of the bed, brushing away the fringe of the canopy that drooped annoyingly into his eyes. "I'm going to have to look at your wounds Pippin. If you are well, and healed enough, you can go down to the ground, where Legolas, Gimli, and Sam have made you a picnic. Would you like that? You could see the green grass and flowers of Lothlórien. This is a beautiful place, Pippin."  
  
Pippin's eyes widened. Stealing another glance at Merry for reassurance, he answered, "R-really, truly, Strider? C-could I get out of bed? B-but what if I'm bad, and n-n-not well enough?" Pippin cast his eyes down, and he swirled a finger on the coverlet's embroidery pattern. "Will I not be allowed to eat?"  
  
Sighing, Aragorn reached out and tilted Pippin's fallen chin up, so the hobbit had to meet his eyes. "Pippin you are not bad - you never have been."  
  
Merry added his voice to Aragorn's, "you've been ill Pippin, my love and you're still recovering."  
  
If you are not well enough, Master Peregrin, then we will simply move the entire feast up here." Aragorn assured him. "Now, you must take off your nightshirt, Pippin. I need to see your injuries."  
  
"Here, Pip" Merry murmured. "I'll help you. Just relax." Pippin indeed looked quite tense at the thought of taking off his nightshirt. He let his hands fall to the cover, while Merry's nimble fingers made short work of the small buttons. Aragorn let Merry carry on. He felt that it would be better mentally for the hurt hobbit if familiar hands did most of the care. When Merry was finished with the buttons, Boromir came to the other side of the bed, and lifted the cover, so that Pippin could climb under before he was completely undressed. Aragorn mentally cursed the vile orcs for the millionth time as he ran down the list of physical hurts.  
  
"How much does the cut on your stomach hurt, Pippin? Think of it as from Bree to Hobbiton. Bree is when it first happened and Hobbiton is no pain at all." Aragorn smiled as he saw Pippin puzzling through the strange analogy he had given him.  
  
Pippin thought for a moment. "Frogmorton normally, Brandywine Bridge when I move." "How are your burns feeling?" As Aragorn asked this, he pulled aside the sheet, and examined them for signs of infection.  
  
"Th-they're a...bit sore, and very stiff when I move. But not as bad as before!" Pippin added hurriedly, desperate to be counted well enough to go and have a picnic.  
  
"That's very good. It means they are healing up now. Try not to disturb them too much Pippin. Now, I need to see in your mouth." Aragorn opened Pippin's mouth gently with one finger and peered inside. Pippin's eyes rolled a bit in anxiety, his dreams reminded him all too well of what happened whenever his mouth was forced open. However, other than the healing abrasions, Aragorn found no new injuries, and his fingers felt no breakage as he gently and carefully probed Pippin's jaw. There was too much swelling before to be totally sure nothing was broken, although the ranger had worried at the damage that might have been caused by the terrible gag.  
  
Aragorn nodded, and placed a hand on Pippin's shoulder, turning the halfling over, simultaneously putting a pillow under his stomach to ease the tension on the stitches. Then he carefully drew down the covers to reveal the whip marks. Pippin whimpered and Merry flinched. Meriadoc still got a bit light-headed at the sight of the horrid wounds that had been inflicted on his cousin.  
  
Boromir patted Pippin's shoulder, the one spot that was relatively hurt free, except for a dark purple bite mark. "There, there, little one. You're doing fine, Pippin." Pippin twisted his head around to gaze up at the big man.  
  
"Really, Boromir? Am I?" The Gondorian chuckled. At least one thing had not changed, Pippin's need for reassurance. Even at the beginning of the journey he had noticed it. The incorrigible little perian would pester him endlessly to repeat the good points of that day's sword fighting lesson.  
  
"Yes, Pippin. You've done wonderfully. You are a fine and brave warrior and you would make a knight such as Gondor would be proud to own. You have a tenacity and courage such as I have rarely witnessed," answered Boromir. Pippin seemed a bit overwhelmed by such praise, he blushed and half-buried his face into the pillow again, peeping out with one eye.  
  
"Thank you, Boromir." came the muffled reply from the pillow. Merry smiled up at the large warrior.  
  
"Yes, especially for making Pippin feel special." At Merry's words Boromir looked a bit startled.  
  
"I did not say those things merely to make Pippin feel special, Merry. I mean it." Boromir smiled back at Merry warmly, "Pippin is very brave. I do not know of any of my guard who could have faced what he has, and come through it with such courage."  
  
"He is brave isn't he." Merry agreed. "Just because hobbits are small does not mean they are not capable of great things."  
  
Though he hated to interrupt the touching exchange, there was one last thing that needed Aragorn's attention. "Everything is very good so far Pippin. But now I just need to look at your rear. Is that all right with you?" Aragorn had decided to ask Pippin for permission before doing anything major with his body, to give the hobbit a sense of control again.  
  
Pippin paled visibly and bit his lip. He then appeared to have to swallow a few times before he could answer in a whisper, "Y-yes, it's all right, Strider." Pippin shoved his face farther into the pillow. He had been trying to ignore the shooting, fiery pains that still plagued him, and their cause.  
  
Boromir's hand tightened on Pippin's shoulder, even as Merry squirmed around to hug Pippin closely and murmured into his ear. "Don't worry, Pip. I've got you...shhh..." Merry held his trembling cousin as tightly as he dared, and Pippin reached out an arm and gripped him right back. Strider drew out a small vial of oil, and a soft cloth he had had ready in his pocket. Boromir moved his hand to Pippin's head, stroking the soft, shortened curls in a soothing manner, as Aragorn removed the covers from Pippin's rear.  
  
Merry had been doing his best to not look at this damaged area and concentrate on his cousin's upper body, but he couldn't miss Boromir's sharp intake of breath and the Gondorian's flinch.  
  
Boromir had not seen the damage recently. His blood boiled in rage at what had been done to his little one. The dark bruising that had covered Pippin's buttocks was now mottled with sickly green and yellow splotches. A wide scrape that originated around Pippin's pelvis ran all the way into his cleft - Boromir could not think of how even orcs could have done something so heinous to such an innocent little creature as Pippin.  
  
Pippin squeezed his eyes shut as the first draft of cold air hit his exposed posterior. This was the first time he was fully aware during an examination of this nature. Though he was trembling, Merry's hold on him and Boromir's comforting hand helped keep the memories at bay.  
  
After ensuring that there was no more new bleeding or complications aside from a mild infection, Aragorn reached over to the vial of oil and cloth. Working as quickly as he could, the Ranger unstoppered the oil and soaked the gauze with the fragrant liquid. He then pressed the cloth against Pippin's sore opening. At the touch, Pippin convulsed and cried out softly. Aragorn steadied his hips with a gentle but firm hand.  
  
"Hush, little one. This will make you feel better and help you heal, shush now..." Pippin stilled, but Merry could feel the vibrations from his soft keening.  
  
Aragorn gently worked the oil soaked cloth further into the damaged area, making sure that he stopped each time Pippin winced too violently. Merry's eyes flitted anxiously from the ranger to his small cousin and Icicle growled softly each time her cub cried out, although she made no move to intervene.  
  
When Aragorn had finished he gently replaced the cover over Pippin and examined the cloth. It was stained pink in several places, showing that there was still some mild bleeding in places, but not enough to be concerned about. The bleeding would help clean the anal wounds better than anything he could do. The ranger placed the used cloth in a laundry hamper, and washed his hands in a basin of water sitting on a sideboard. He looked back over at the hobbits and Boromir. Pippin still had his face pressed into the pillow, and Merry and Boromir seemed to be attempting to get him to emerge. Even Icicle was trying to help; she had squirmed around and was now licking Pippin's ear and neck. Sighing, Aragorn sat down on the edge of the bed once more, and rubbed the shoulder Boromir had earlier.  
  
"You know, Pippin," Aragorn said softly, leaning close to the quivering curls sprouting from the cushion, "it's rather hard to eat a picnic with a pillow over one's mouth."  
  
Pippin's head gradually turned out from the pillow. "D-d-does that mean I can go to the picnic, Strider? Am I good enough? Truly?"  
  
Merry reached out and drew his now upright little cousin in for a squeeze. "You are always good enough for anything, Pip."  
  
Now that the treatment was ended, Aragorn nodded to Merry to put the nightshirt back on. "Perhaps we should find you some better clothes to wear now that you are so much recovered." Aragorn told him, "Would you like that?"  
  
Pippin nodded and, pulling himself up the bed as soon as Merry had put the nightshirt back on, drew his scarf from under his pillow. "I still got my scarf, Strider." He stroked the knitted fabric and held it to his face.  
  
Boromir leaned over and taking one end of the muffler wrapped it playfully around Pippin's neck. One moment Pippin was smiling and then he suddenly froze, his happy face turning to ice in a second. His hands flew to his throat and he let out a scream as he tore at the scarf trying to pull it away from his neck, but his actions only tightened it more.  
  
"Pippin! Stop!" Merry frantically pleaded as he too tried to unwrap the scarf in the right direction to remove it. Icicle snarled at Boromir and bared her fangs, making the man jump nervously back and away from the bed, while Aragorn struggled to catch hold of Pippin's arms and keep him still.  
  
"It's all right Pippin," Aragorn managed to clamp down on the little hobbit's flailing arms while Merry untangled the scarf from around his neck. "You didn't actually wear it since you got it back, did you? Just held it. I know little one, it's all right." Aragorn let Merry take over holding Pippin, as he did not want to crowd him in this state and waited until his breathing began to calm down to a reasonable level.  
  
"I'm so sorry," Boromir was mortified. "I did not realise that would cause so much distress."  
  
"I don't think any of us did." Aragorn reassured him. He turned to Pippin and spoke very softly, hoping that perhaps it would help for the frightened hobbit to face his terror. "What did they do with the scarf Pippin? You don't have to say, but it might help."  
  
"I'd for-for-forgotten!" Pippin finally managed to sob out. "P-p-pu-putted. put it rou-round my-my neck and did. did. things. no stop. can't say." Pippin buried his face in the pillow and sobbed. Very gently Merry eased his arms around the shaking shoulders and gradually moved the tear-covered face to rest upon his own chest, stroking Pippin's back and whispering soft nothings into his pointed ear.  
  
Icicle suddenly whimpered a greeting and, turning towards the door, moved forward on her belly, her tail thumping hard on the floor. The men looked up, Merry was still too preoccupied with his distressed cousin. It was the Lady Galadriel.  
  
The Lady smiled down at the warg and whispered a benediction in Quenyan. Icicle rose and pattered to stand behind Galadriel, as if waiting for a command. The two men turned to face the Elf Queen and bowed their heads in respect. "Estel," she addressed the ranger, "I would speak with you a moment." Aragorn stepped forward, nodding farewell to Boromir, that he should stay with the hobbits.  
  
Galadriel paused for a moment, her head on one side as if listening, holding her hand up to delay the movement. "With both of you, if I may." She stepped forward and placed a hand on Pippin's head, stilling his crying almost instantly. Merry looked up in awe. "Meriadoc," she whispered, "stay and care for your little cousin, he loves and trusts you most of all." Galadriel gave a silvery little laugh. "yes, even more than me," She answered his unvoiced question, "I promise you."  
  
Boromir and Aragorn followed the Lady from the chamber, Icicle too was at her heels, but she shook her head slightly and the white warg gave a small whine and trotted back to lie beside Pippin's bed. The two men descended the flet behind the Woodland Queen, who almost seemed to float down the long staircase, so graceful were her movements.  
  
When they reached the ground they found Legolas, Gimli and Celeborn waiting for them, all had been summoned to a council. Galadriel was seated next to Celeborn and the two men, the elf and the dwarf sat either side of the rulers of the Golden Wood.  
  
"My friends," Galadriel began, "Many have been your troubles and still they increase rather than abate. You have been dealing with these problems as they arise and, against all odds, you have managed well." Galadriel looked around at the four with a half smile. "But I believe the time has come for you to make some important decisions."  
  
Gimli harrumphed a little indicating that he wished to ask a question. The Lady nodded to him. "What of the hobbits? Should not they be here to help make decisions? Their stature may be lacking, but they are not children."  
  
"Indeed, Gimli," The Lady agreed, "They are not children and you should consult them in due course. But for now it would be better for you four to debate the issues before you. Also two of the periain are injured and the other two are caring for them."  
  
Gimli nodded his agreement, while the others merely waited for the Lady to continue. "What I believe you should be considering is The Ring." Her voice was low as she spoke of the evil that was currently in Lothlórien. "Frodo lies grievously ill. It is possible that he may not be able to continue with the Quest at all. Have you considered what will be done if that should happen."  
  
Before they could speak Celeborn elaborated further. "You may have thought on this matter individually, but you must be in agreement. The Ring cannot be allowed to be transferred into the possession of another without due consideration and forethought."  
  
The four looked at one another, each waiting for the other to speak. Finally Legolas broke the silence. "Do you suggest that one of us might consider taking the Ring?" He asked tentatively.  
  
"This," said Galadriel, "is what you must decide. No other may do so - it is up to the Fellowship to make this decision."  
  
"No!" Aragorn was adamant, "I do not believe man, elf or dwarf has the resistance to carry the One Ring. None of us should take it."  
  
"Why not?" Boromir queried, "We could use the Ring in our endeavour to destroy it. Make it a tool in its own destruction."  
  
"Boromir!" Legolas half rose, "You know that is not possible. Why do you persist in this line of argument? We discussed this at the Council of Elrond. We cannot wield the Ring, no one can!"  
  
"How can you know?" Boromir stood and paced up and down. "Maybe if one had the will to contain its power. We could at the very least use its power to avenge ourselves on the orcs who tortured and almost killed Peregrin."  
  
"Boromir," Galadriel spoke softly. "Even the most powerful among us know that the Ring would be the Master. Why do you think that Mithrandir did not bear the Ring? But rather entrusted it to Frodo? Can you guarantee to do what the wizard could not?"  
  
Boromir glanced at his feet for a moment, drew a breath and then sat once again, saying nothing more.  
  
"Do not be upset," Galadriel continued. "I know that the Ring calls to you, you cannot help the impulse that it draws from you. Just be aware of it."  
  
"It must be one of the hobbits," Aragorn declared. "If Frodo cannot continue one of them must. I believe this is why Gandalf spoke in favour of them being part of the Fellowship. He knew that if something were to befall Frodo then another hobbit, a strong and trustworthy hobbit, should take his place.  
  
"So you think there was more to Gandalf arguing in favour of Merry and Pippin, and Samwise for that matter, than just to keep Frodo company?" Gimli asked. "What do you suppose he had in mind exactly?"  
  
"I am only guessing." Aragorn continued, "I think Sam was chosen because he would not forsake Frodo if his life depended on it and he would care for him better than any other being in Middle Earth. We have seen that in evidence ourselves." Aragorn considered for a moment, "Merry and Pippin are a little different. Yes, they are Frodo's cousins and that is important. But in the Shire it is not so unusual, most of them are related in some way. I think it is more significant that Pippin is heir to The Thain and Merry will one day be Master of Buckland."  
  
"So you think he chose them for their status?" Legolas asked in surprise.  
  
"Not just that, but their bloodlines alone mean they come from doughty and noble stock." Aragorn pointed out. "Also they will have been brought up to know that one day they will hold much responsibility and that they must be honourable and true - and so they are."  
  
"But which of the hobbits, if Frodo cannot continue," Boromir cast a look at Aragorn, "which would you choose to bear the Ring?"  
  
"We must decide," Aragorn pointed out, "it is not solely my say. I think we must consider each of them with care."  
  
"Samwise would seem the obvious choice to me." Boromir stated. "He would be steadfast and dedicated to the end."  
  
"But what end?" Legolas asked. "If Frodo were to die, I think he would continue with his master's task, but if Frodo were left incapacitated, I doubt anything would persuade him to leave his side."  
  
"Even if Frodo were to die, I doubt that Samwise would feel it was appropriate for him to become the Ringbearer." Aragorn shook his head. "He would prefer I think to be in a more supportive role to one of the others."  
  
"Which makes him more suitable." Boromir added. "Sam does not put himself forward and is self-effacing and modest - the qualities which enable him to not be drawn by the Ring."  
  
"Aye but surely the Ring itself weaves a bewitchment to suit every purpose." Gimli said, "It would see a weakness in Sam, a lack of ambition, and that might be turned against him in some way."  
  
"Then if not Sam, what of the other two?" Boromir suggested. "Merry would seem the obvious choice."  
  
"Not so obvious," Aragorn contradicted, "Pippin too, has much to suggest that he could complete the Quest. He has shown remarkable resilience to all that has happened to him. I doubt that a man would have even survived. Also he, like Merry, has enough leadership qualities to help him through danger, but, like most hobbits, is lacking in avarice and lust for power."  
  
"But surely he is too ill - too damaged - to even be considered." Legolas was surprised that the ranger should even suggest such a possibility.  
  
"He is at present not capable," Aragorn agreed, "but he is making rapid progress."  
  
"Physically perhaps," Boromir acknowledged, "but what of his mental state? How will you ever know if he has recovered his mind?"  
  
"Then Merry, for sure," Gimli stated, "it must be Meriadoc."  
  
"I do not disagree," Aragorn turned to face the dwarf, "but Pippin's recovery also affects Merry deeply too. Whilst Pippin remains damaged there is a likelihood that Merry will be reluctant to leave him and will not want to take him into further danger."  
  
"Reluctant, yes," Gimli put in, "but he understands duty well and would see that it was for the greater good."  
  
"I believe, based on their current condition," Boromir summed up, "That Merry should be the Ringbearer, Sam should continue with him, while Frodo and Pippin be left here to recuperate."  
  
"That at the moment would seem like the only possible course of action." Aragorn sighed, "but it is not the best choice. I am sure that Merry and Sam would agree to do this, but both of them would be psychologically vulnerable."  
  
"Aragorn is right." Legolas put in. "It cannot have escaped anyone's notice that Frodo completes Sam and Pippin is as the other half of Merry. I have never before observed such closeness in creatures, but hobbits, it appears, form very deep attachments and seem to need the nearness of a particular companion in the same way they need six meals a day."  
  
"With the Fellowship they rarely managed six meals a day," Gimli grunted, "yet they survived."  
  
"Their need for each other is greater than their need for food, I believe." Legolas added quietly.  
  
"Then we should try to wait until either Frodo or Pippin is fully recovered." Aragorn looked at the other three, who all nodded in agreement. "Pippin's wounds are almost healed, but I am unsure of his mental state. As I said earlier, he may never fully recover."  
  
"And if he does not - what then?" Gimli asked, "we should agree what will happen."  
  
"I suggest that if Frodo does not recover, that Meriadoc should be asked to become the Ringbearer." Aragorn stated. "Pippin would naturally defer and follow Merry, just as Sam follows Frodo and if he is too ill to continue then I am sure Sam would agree to help Merry, for Frodo's sake and for the sake of Middle Earth." Aragorn paused to look at the assembled company. "In any event we shall still be with the little ones to guide and help them, right to the end, if fate so decrees." The other three all nodded their assent to this conclusion.  
  
"I think you have reached a wise and good decision." Galadriel spoke after no one else seemed inclined to add more to the discussion. "However, there may still be something we can do to help with Peregrin's recovery. It is a drastic measure and not to be undertaken lightly." The Lady paused to look around at the wondering faces. "But do not think on it just yet. Take the little one to his repast and see how he fares. We will speak of these things again."  
  
With that Galadriel and Celeborn rose and bowed to the four members of the Fellowship and departed to be about their own affairs.  
  
"Well now that's decided, let us go and fetch the little one to his picnic." Boromir raised his eyebrows to Aragorn in question.  
  
"Go and hurry," Legolas smiled. "The food is prepared and might spoil should it wait longer. Gimli and I will set all in readiness."  
  
"You go first Boromir," Aragorn nodded, "I will fetch the clothes Melystra has furnished for Pippin and see if he will agree to be dressed. I shall meet you there."  
  
Boromir hurried up to the healing chamber and found Merry and Pippin once again cuddled up against Icicle. Merry was wearing the scarf around his own neck and Pippin was holding one end of it, as if to prove there was no harm in the garment itself.  
  
"Are you ready Pippin?" Boromir asked quietly so as not to startle the little one. His earlier mistake with the scarf had unnerved him greatly. "The picnic is just about ready. Gimli, Legolas and Sam have worked diligently to prepare a feast fit for a Thain."  
  
"Or a Thain's son." Merry added with a laugh.  
  
"Can I go, really?" Pippin asked Boromir nervously. Then looked to the door as Aragorn entered. "Can I Strider?" he asked. "I should like to."  
  
"Of course you can, Pippin. Now, let's get started, it's quite a long way down." stated Aragorn. "Oh, but before we go, Melystra bade me give you these, Pippin." Aragorn unfolded the parcel he was carrying to reveal Pippin's old clothes, washed, repaired, and folded neatly. "Now you won't have to go about the Golden Wood in naught but a shirt. Here, let's get these on." He held out the small pair of breeches, now very clean, with the rips sewn up.  
  
Pippin's breath began to come in slightly faster gasps as he looked at his breeches. Looked, and remembered. He thought about how hard he had fought in the rocks to keep his clothes and dignity, failing miserably. His clothes hadn't helped at all. They had come off so easily, when they were supposed to protect him! They had betrayed him, especially his breeches. They had come off and allowed the orcs to...to...  
  
"Pippin!" cried Merry in alarm. Pippin was quivering more so now than he had been when the scarf was around his neck. His breathing was shallow and quick, his eyes were glassy, and his face was gaining an awful pallor.  
  
Aragorn acted quickly. He grabbed Pippin from Merry and held his chin in one hand, forcing Pippin to look into his eyes. "Pippin! Come back to us. You're safe now, Pippin. Come back!" When Pippin's breathing didn't slow, Aragorn finally resorted to a few rather sharp pats to the hobbit's cheek. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Pippin's body untensed, and his eyes lost their far away look. "Shh, Pippin," Aragorn crooned, now rubbing his back. "What's the matter? Don't you want to get dressed?"  
  
Pippin bowed his head, not meeting the Ranger's eyes, and nodded.  
  
"You don't want to wear your own old clothes, do you Pippin?" This time Pippin shook his head. "I understand, little one, it's all right." Aragorn was trying to gently bring Pippin out of his private torture.  
  
Pippin felt a tear squeeze out of his eye. Why couldn't he stop crying? It was one thing to cry with Merry, but he didn't want to cry in front of Boromir and Aragorn. He wanted so much for them to think well of him, and to think him worthy to be in the Fellowship. He drew a shuddering breath, and brought his hand up to surreptitiously wipe the tear away. To his dismay, he found that action only brought more tears than he could handle. However, he still kept his lips firmly sealed and attempted to stifle the noises welling up from his throat. Now more than ever, he wished for his longer hair back, it would have hidden his childish crying from the others. Now they must think him a whining baby. At these thoughts a new glut of misery welled up and lodged in his chest, forming a difficult lump in his throat.  
  
Aragorn watched Pippin with pity. The poor little halfling's face had twisted oddly into the expression someone has when they are trying very hard not to weep. Aragorn hugged Pippin close. "You can cry, Pippin. Truly, it's all right to grieve." Pippin felt the floodgates open at Strider's words. He could not control the sobs that heaved through his tiny frame, echoing up from the depths of his broken little soul.  
  
"Huh-uh-huh-h-ii-I'm so s-s-sorry Strider! So sorry, sorry, sorry..." Pippin babbled incoherently while the tall ranger rocked and soothed him. They remained like that for several minutes, with Merry rubbing Pippin's back, and Boromir looking on. When Pippin's weeping finally stilled, Aragorn looked over his head at Boromir.  
  
"Boromir, would you be so kind as to bring the robe Melystra included with the garments for this eventuality?" Boromir nodded curtly and reached into the pack that had held the garments, and pulled out a long, silvery, embroidered robe, that fastened with a tie around the waist, and small pair of soft, grey under-breeches that had a tie string. He brought these to Aragorn.  
  
"Here, Pippin. We were given these in the event you did not wish to wear your old clothes." Aragorn gently prised Pippin from his tunic and with Merry's help got the breeches on, and tied the elves' robe about his middle. Pippin examined the silvery-green fabric and patterns with great interest.  
  
Aragorn drew another item from the package. "Here are some smaller stockings that were made for you too, they will keep your feet warm but shouldn't fall off so easily."  
  
Merry looked Pippin up and down. "There now, Pip. Don't you look handsome! Why, I don't even think Sam will recognise you in that."  
  
Pippin's eyes opened wide. "Am- am I really handsome, in this Merry? I- I thought with my hair." Pippin's voice cracked a bit as he struggled to get around the lump in his throat. "I c-couldn't possibly look nice. And after, aft-t-ter the orcs, I always feel so ugly..."  
  
"Oh, Pip," Merry gave his cousin a reassuring hug. "You're never anything other than beautiful. Why, if you walked about the Shire like this, the lasses would be chasing you through all the four Farthings!"  
  
"That's right, Pippin." Boromir added. "Now with your healer's approval, may I have the honour of carrying you to your repast?" Both Aragorn and Pippin nodded and Boromir leaned over and scooped up Pippin gently, cradling the hobbit carefully in his arms. Pippin reached up and linked his arms behind the strong man's neck. Boromir smiled down at his trusting little charge, and led the way out of the room, with the others following closely.  
  
0-****-0  
  
TBC  
  
Reveiwer responses:  
  
katakanadian: Hmm, I'll have to think about what Sam could be really good at...conkers? Heehee- read Llinos and Marigold's 'Hobbits Abroad' to get that joke. P'raps if we all pester them enough they'll write another chapter! URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1057933  
  
shirebound: I'm so happy you've stuck with me through all these chapters. Well, think about it, Leggie and Gimli have had many more years than Sam to learn cooking, and they are both bachelors.  
  
Mistofelees: Heehee, that was a funny image of Gimli. The only thing missing would be a mobcap.  
  
Hel: Hertzliche Weinachten! (I do hope I did that right! I've forgotten most of my German holiday greetings, I'm afraid.)  
  
Bella Monte: No, Icicle's not supposed to be that. She's just a regular white wolf, like the one's that invaded the Shire in the fell winter. I've always thought of wargs as any evil wolf. But obviously Icy's not evil, so we'll have to think of another species name for her!  
  
Lily Baggins: Yay for Frodo angst! More coming, and I still haven't forgotten about your promised story, hon. No fear! 


	34. Fed

Moria's Revenge, Chapter 34: Fed  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
Beta: Marigold  
  
AN:(Kookaburra) Hi everyone, on request from Marigold I drew a picture of Pippin in his elven robe. If you cut and paste this link into the browser, you should be able to view it. I am not really satisfied with it, as I rarely work with watercolours, graphite is my main medium. If you would like to see more art, visit my elfwood gallery, which is listed under my homepage in my author page.   
Pippin pic link-  
http://www.thetolkienforum.com/attachment.php?s=&postid=231497  
  
***  
  
As Boromir carried Pippin down the stairs he felt the hobbit growing more and more tense. His arms clung more tightly around his neck and his breathing became rapid. When they reached the foot of the stairs and came onto the greensward Pippin wriggled in the strong man's grasp and called frantically, "Merry!"  
  
"Shh. . . Pippin," Boromir soothed him, "it's all right, Merry is here. He's walking right beside us. Look down and you will see him."  
  
Before Pippin could locate Merry with his eyes, his cousin had heard the edge of panic in his tone and caught hold of his dangling foot, "I won't leave you Pip, I'm right here." He squeezed the foot through the woolly stocking, "We're all going to have dinner."  
  
Aragorn put his hand on Boromir's shoulder and said quietly, "Perhaps Pippin would like to walk the rest of the way - it's not far."  
  
Boromir understood that Aragorn actually thought it would be a good idea, but they needed to ask. "Would you like that Pippin?" Boromir whispered.  
  
Pippin sniffed a little. He had calmed considerably once Merry had taken hold of his foot. "Yes please, I think I can."  
  
Very carefully the little hobbit was set on the ground and Merry immediately took his hand to steady him, while Boromir took the other, stretching his arm down so that Pippin did not have to reach up. Slowly Pippin walked along, still a little doubled over, but better than before, and increasingly using the helping hands for balance rather than support.  
  
Once they arrived at the table, where Legolas and Gimli were waiting, Pippin was lifted up to sit on a well cushioned chair, with Merry sitting beside him, also bolstered up with cushions so that he could reach the table.  
  
The others then took their places; Aragorn sat the other side of Pippin with Boromir opposite. Legolas and Gimli sat next to each other also on the opposite side to the hobbits.  
  
Sam brought the food out and set it upon the table. The pie was hot from the warm oven and there was new bread and butter, and honey, together with roast wood pigeons in gooseberry sauce, buttered celery hearts and sweet glazed potatoes. There was also a good quantity of wine, both crimson and clear and a syrupy mead to drink.  
  
Sam served Pippin first, as the guest of honour, and cut into the golden piecrust to reveal the creamy sauce covered mushrooms. He ladled a good helping onto the plate and Merry cut a piece of bread and scraped some butter on it before putting it in Pippin's passive hand.  
  
Sam then dished up a tray of food and begged his leave of the others, as he wanted to take a little something up to Frodo. The "little something" was a good portion of the pie filling with a tiny taste of crust; some roast wood pigeon and gooseberry sauce and a flagon of wine, plus a little each of the vegetables. Sam, satisfied his tray was in order, trotted off to surprise his master with these delicacies.  
  
Pippin watched in stunned silence as the others helped themselves to the food, filling their plates and chatting nonchalantly about this and that. All that is except Merry. He was watching Pippin carefully. His young cousin did not seem to be particularly at ease and followed the movements of the others as if seeing them for the first time.   
  
What was actually running through Pippin's mind was the mess hall of the orcs, when he had been put on the table and they had. . . no. . . no don't think about that. That's over and done with, Pippin told himself sternly.  
  
But it wouldn't go away. This setting was too familiar. Those terrible images, the frightening leering and jeering faces. It was not even as if it were a nightmare that he could wake up from, it had all happened, it was real. Pippin remembered what had followed. The terrible pain of the "hot root" they had called it and where they had put it. 'Ohhh! Nooo!' Pippin could almost feel it again – it had been so dreadful, the memory made him want to scream out loud.  
  
But Merry was there. Merry was touching his hand now, gently, so gently. Nothing could hurt him if Merry was there.  
  
"Pip! Pip! Come back, look at me." Merry was patting his hand now, worried at the faraway, frightened look in Pippin's eyes.  
  
"Merry?" Pippin whispered the name, clutching at Merry's arm frantically to make sure he was really there. "I'm seeing it all again, help me Merry, it won't stop. . . I can't. . ."  
  
"Don't panic Pip my love. Look carefully around." Merry had jumped down from his chair to hug Pippin closely. Now he turned him round a little to look at the anxious faces at the table.  
  
They had all stopped talking as soon as they realised Pippin was on the verge of panic. "It's all right Pippin." Aragorn reassured him, "See, it's just a table and food and you're going to eat dinner with us. Do you remember?"  
  
"Yes," Pippin whispered, "remember. . . I do remember. . . everything." Although Pippin's eyes just looked a little glazed, his mind was racing frantically round in terrifying circles. He saw the table in the orcs' mess hall and the snarling wargs on the floor, where he lay in agony from the red paste in his backside. Remembered the orc picking him up off the floor and feeding him - putting something in his mouth that had made him so ill, made him see nightmares that were worse than the one he was living.  
  
"That's good Pip," Merry assumed that Pippin was recalling the plan to have a picnic. "Here let me help you. This is mushrooms in a pie." He scooped a bit of mushroom onto a fork and held it before Pippin's mouth. "Come on eat the mushroom Pip."  
  
Pippin remembered sitting on the floor, a mushroom had just been forced down his throat and then he was swaying from side to side feeling sick and dizzy, unable to feel the ground beneath him. He had looked up and seen the whole Fellowship pointing and jeering at him and then Boromir had stepped into the circle with a whip. Pippin had pleaded with him for help, promising to be good and never annoy him again. But it had been to no avail. Boromir had lashed his helpless, abused body until it bled and he could no longer scream. Then he had passed the whip to Strider.  
  
"No! No! No! Aaaiiieeee!" Pippin suddenly screamed a piercing heart-rending cry and slapped away the morsel Merry was holding out for him. He looked frantically round and there they all were, just like before. Boromir was looking at him and Strider was taking hold of him. Pippin fought this time. He made fists and punched and pummelled as hard as he could, all the time screaming and begging to be left alone. "Don't! Don't touch me, don't touch me. . . please don't touch me. . . leave me alone. . .please . . . please. . . Merry. . . Merry. . . where are you. . . please!"  
  
-0****0-  
  
Sam climbed up the lengthy stair to the healer's flet where Frodo was recuperating. When the other members of the fellowship had come out of the Lord and Lady's counsels, Gimli had explained what might come to pass regarding Frodo's ability to carry on with the Quest, and then the dwarf and the others urged Sam to tell Frodo what had been discussed. Now the sturdy gardener, laden with food from the picnic, was traversing the network of stairs and flets once again.  
  
When he entered the room where Frodo was resting, he came upon Melystra, who was checking the battered hobbit's heartbeat and temperature. But the thing Sam noticed the most was Frodo's bright blue eyes- his master was awake again! Nearly dropping the tray in his excitement, Sam pattered over to the bedside, where he carefully placed the tray, and then stood on tip-toe to see his master upon the bed.  
  
Frodo painfully turned his head to one side, trying to see more of Sam, however, all that was visible were Sam's eyes and the top of his curly head peeking over the counterpane. "Mr Frodo, it's so good to see you awake again!" exclaimed Sam. "We were awful worried – I hope you're feeling hungry. See, I've brought you some food."  
  
Smiling, Frodo replied hoarsely, "Thank you, dear Sam," Frodo's smile widened as Sam beamed at the endearment. "Yes, I am rather hungry, but my throat is so sore. . ."  
  
"Don't you worry Mr Frodo," Sam said as he searched for a way to climb on the bed without jostling his master. "Mr Legolas and Mr Gimli made a wonderful mushroom pie, and I've brought some – mostly filling, just as you like it. . ." Sam paused as he was caught about the waist by Melystra and deposited on the coverlet. He smiled up at the elven healer, "Thank you Ma-am." He turned back to Frodo again, ". . .it's smooth as milk, and I've also brought some wine and some boneless breast of wood pigeon in gooseberry sauce and some sweetened vegetables. Those should all go down nice and easy!"  
  
"Thank you, Sam. It sounds and smells delicious. But," Frodo added, his face clouding, "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to sit up yet. How am I to eat, Lady Melystra?"  
  
"The same as you always do, young Frodo." Melystra spoke for the first time. "I must put some very soft pillows behind your back, however. It is still badly torn, and too much pressure could reopen the wounds." While the elf bustled about, getting pillows and a small platter with legs for eating in bed, Sam uncovered the dishes and started making up a plate for both him and Frodo, he decided it would be more sociable to keep his master company. He ladled a generous amount of the mushroom filling into two small bowls, and placed several strips of meat on top and garnished the breast meat with the sauce. The wine posed a bit more of a problem. The glasses he had been provided with were elfsized- nearly three times as big as a hobbit would need. If any hobbit – even Mr Merry, who had a seemingly infinite capacity for alcohol – were to drink a whole glass, Sam would bet his best petunias that they would be tipsy in minutes. Well, he reasoned, best not to fill them up. The hobbit carefully balanced on the soft mattress while using both hands to pour two quarter glasses from the relatively large flagon of wine.  
  
Melystra finished arranging Frodo on the pillows and placing the legged tray over his lap. Before she slipped out the door, she gave the hobbit one final admonition. "You are not to feed yourself Frodo. Let Samwise do it." she held up a white palm to forestall Frodo's protests. "This is not debatable, Mr Baggins. Your right shoulder muscles were torn in the attack, and the left ones were wrenched. You are to rest them bicompletely/i/b to prevent further damage. With that, she ghosted out the door, and closed it softly behind her.  
  
"Well, Mr Frodo. Shall we get started? How are you feeling?" Sam sat down next to Frodo and spooned up some mushroom sauce, holding it at the ready for Frodo to eat.  
  
Frodo blushed hotly. He was more than a little angry, not so much with Melystra, but with his current situation. He was not some drooling invalid who needed to be babied. "You don't have to do that Sam," said Frodo quietly, trying not to strain his voice. "I can feed myself, really." Frodo gave a wan smile and looked up at Samwise.  
  
However Sam had experience with his master being ill before, and knew that Frodo hated to be nursed. "Of course you can't Mr Frodo," said Sam cheerily. "And it's healer's orders, besides. I'm not goin' to let you hurt yourself." Sam's sunny face clouded a little. "And. . .Mr G-gandalf told me to look after you, and not let anything hurt you. And anything means not even yourself. So open up, Mr Frodo." Frodo's mouth remained stubbornly shut, and the corners turned down. Sam sighed. His master was being sulky, and Frodo was even more impossible than young Master Pip when he was sulky. "Mr Frodo, now you need your strength. Let's not have any more of this nonsense." Still the mouth remained shut. After several minutes of wheedling and cajoling, Sam had had enough. Usually he was tolerant of his master's moods, but this time the situation was more dire, his master truly needed nourishment, and Sam was going to make sure he got it.  
  
"Now, Mr Frodo, you biare/i/b going to eat this, if I have to hold your nose and force you to swallow." Frodo's eyes widened. He was pushing Sam's patience, and knew it.  
  
"You wouldn't dare, Sam." Frodo challenged, trying to speak without opening his lips, knowing Sam would not miss the opportunity to deliver the waiting spoonful of food.  
  
"Just see if I wouldn't, Mr Frodo. You're hurt, you need food, and you're not to feed yourself. Now, if I do have to force the point, there's sure to be an awful mess in here when we're done. If there is, I'm going to tell them exactly how I had to feed you like a spoiled babe in arms. Maybe next time Mr Boromir or Mr Strider will have to help me. Would you like that, Mr Frodo, or would you rather eat up for your Sam?" Sam hated to threaten Frodo's dignity like this, it was the one thing Frodo held dear most of all, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He held gazes with Frodo. Finally his master's eyes dropped in submission.  
  
"All right Sam." sighed Frodo quietly. "You win." He opened his mouth, resigned to his fate.  
  
"I'm glad, Mr Frodo. You really do need a good meal inside you." He slipped a spoonful of sauce into Frodo's mouth, and mopped up an errant dribble that escaped the corner of his master's lips with a fine linen napkin.  
  
-0****0-  
  
Aragorn was trying to hold Pippin still and lifted him up to stop him from hurting himself, while Boromir was rubbing his back gently and telling him urgently to calm down. Merry was standing on his chair so that he could reach Pippin's face and was repeating frantically over and over, "I'm here Pip! I won't leave you! I'm here! Pip it's all right!"  
  
Gimli was roaring with effort, holding onto Icicle with all his strength as the warg fought him to get to her distressed pup, howling and growling threateningly at the dwarf. Legolas was rapidly explaining to several elven guards, led by Haldir that there was no attack and they did not need to defend anyone at the moment.  
  
Pippin's special treat, the picnic, had turned into utter chaos, no one seemed to be able to bring Pippin back to the present, by touch or word or even by main force.  
  
Suddenly everyone in the little glade heard the same thing, although the words were not spoken aloud. "Stop – enough! Be silent, be calm!" Icicle merely saw a picture in her head that showed her Pippin lying happily by her side, content and calm.  
  
Pippin's screaming stopped abruptly, as did Icicle's howling and growling. The entreaties of all those around Pippin stilled also, along with the elves' demands to know what was happening. A small bird whistled a shimmering refrain and flew off as if embarrassed. All else was silent.  
  
The Lady Galadriel moved soundlessly across the grass and, touching Aragorn lightly on the shoulder, held out her arms for Pippin. Wordlessly the hobbit was handed over and all looked in wonder as she held him cradled in her arms, his body stilled and his face calm.  
  
She nodded towards the wooden carver at the head of the table and Legolas and Haldir almost fell over each other as they fetched the chair for the Lady to sit in with her burden. Gently Galadriel rocked Pippin to and fro like a mother with a newborn and she began to lilt a sweet childish lullaby in the common tongue, something no elf had heard her sing before, but the simple words on her elven lips were as charming as any Sindarin or Quenyan verses and calmed all who heard them.  
  
Dreams shall fade,  
be unmade,  
the past is fled,  
don't be afraid.  
  
The sun is bright,  
bathed in light,  
memories die,  
and take flight.  
  
Precious child,  
mercy smiled,  
your dear heart,  
the fates beguiled.  
  
Cry no tears,  
fear no fears,  
ill thought flees,  
and disappears.  
  
Hear this charm,  
let it calm,  
and keep you now,  
safe from harm.  
  
Pippin lay quietly in Galadriel's arms, a little smile playing about his lips. She carefully lifted him up and placed him back on the cushioned chair beside Merry. At a nod from the Lady, the other diners resumed their places and the watchful elves went back about their business, except Haldir who, at the invitation of Aragorn, also joined the picnic.  
  
Aragorn took up a place the other side of Galadriel, who remained seated next to Pippin. The hobbit looked rather bemused by the whole setting now, as if he did not know where he was, but this time he seemed to be quite relaxed about the situation and allowed Merry to put the fork in his hand and started to eat with some relish.  
  
Pippin's memory of the orc hall had gone for the moment. The only memories the laden table brought to mind were those of the Shire, sitting in the Great Smials big dining room at Yuletide or the grand banqueting room at Brandy Hall for Merry's coming of age. He remembered Bilbo's party in the field under the great tree, so long ago when he was just a child. Pippin felt the golden crust of the pie melt in his mouth and the delicious sauce on the mushrooms tingle on his taste buds for the first time in so, so long. Real food! He had almost forgotten the sheer pleasure of food!  
  
0-****-0  
  
Frodo leaned back into the comforting pillows, his stomach pleasantly full with wonderful, warm food. "Sam." he said quietly. "I'm a bit thirsty, would you. . ."  
  
"Of course, Mr Frodo. See, I've got a wine glass here on the bed stand. I haven't filled it too full. Can't have you getting tipsy now."  
  
Frodo smiled wanly. "No, can't have that. . ." In truth, Frodo would have welcomed the fuzzing of his senses, and the escape from pain. He watched passively as Sam crawled across the bed and picked up the wine glass, and then brought it back to his master.  
  
"Here, Mr Frodo," Sam said as he tilted the glass to Frodo's lips, ever careful to give Frodo just the right amount, so that he did not choke. After Frodo had taken a couple of sips, Sam placed the glass back on the tray. The sturdy hobbit fidgeted a bit and sipped at his own wineglass. He was thinking about what Gimli had told him would happen if Frodo were unable to carry on as Ringbearer. Although the dwarf had insisted nothing would be decided without the hobbits' agreement, Sam had hotly protested being sent to continue the Quest with Mr Merry and not being allowed to stay and tend his master.  
  
However he had finally agreed it might be for the best and a part of him actually hoped his master would resign himself to not go on, then Mr Frodo could stay in beautiful Lórien in peace. And he would most likely have his little cousin Pippin for company, so it was not as though he'd be all alone with these strangers, however nice and grand they were.  
  
"Mr Frodo, I've something to tell you," Sam decided that Frodo would be relieved to know about the discussion, as it might mean taking take the onerous duty of the Ring away and the worry from his shoulders. "The others – the big folk – have been talking about what would happen if you. . . well that is. . . if you. . ."  
  
"What Sam?" Frodo croaked, "please don't torment me, I can't play guessing games."  
  
"I'm so sorry Mr Frodo," Sam was all contrition. "It's just that I'm not sure where to begin."  
  
"The beginning is a good place." Frodo managed a small chuckle.  
  
"Mr Gimli said that if you weren't well enough to continue on with the Quest. . ." Sam decided the end might be a better place to start. "That the others thought – though nothing is decided yet – not without your say-so – it would be best if Mr Merry took the Ring to Mount Doom and that I went with him and that you and Mr Pippin, if he's not well either, stay here in Lórien. There I think I got all of it right." Sam puffed a breath, he had garbled the message as quickly as he could.  
  
"You mean. . ." Frodo, forgetting his instructions to rest his arms and that it hurt to talk, suddenly clutched at his neck to find the Ring and held it tightly in his hand. ". . . you mean they decided all that, without even asking me?"  
  
"No Mr Frodo, it's not decided." Sam's brow furrowed at the alarmed look on his master's face, he had been expecting a sigh of relief. "As I said, they were only thinking on what might be done if you were. . . well you know. . . if you couldn't. . ." Sam trailed off again, lost for words and embarrassed at Frodo's reaction to the news.  
  
"I see Sam." Frodo drew in a painful deep breath and fought down the panic he had felt rising in his heart at the thought of being parted from the Ring. He closed his eyes and counted slowly to calm himself down. He should not be having these thoughts, his mission, after all, was to destroy the Ring, to cast it away from him, not to hold on to it at all costs. Perhaps it was just the thought of having the task of destroying the Ring removed from him without his agreement that had distressed him so much.  
  
"When did they say this would happen? Frodo asked, his voice raspy with effort. "At what point am I to be deemed unfit? Or was this plan in the event of me dying?" The thought came to Frodo in a sudden rush. That was why they were making such plans without him, they still thought he was not going to recover! "Oh Sam, am I going to die? Is that what they said?"  
  
"No Mr Frodo." Sam was horrified at the thought, and at the reaction Frodo was having to his bit of news, "and don't you go talking like that neither. You'll be well again soon, I'm sure."  
  
"But why would they say something . . . some. . . thing. . .?" Frodo was suddenly overwhelmed by a coughing fit that wracked his body and he desperately tried to still the hacking as each spasm caused terrible distress to his wounds.  
  
"Steady Mr Frodo," Sam took the glass of wine once more and offered his master a drink. Frodo closed his eyes in refusal, still coughing. He did not think he could manage the wine right now. Sam took his shoulders and lifted him up slightly, which did at last ease the fit. "There now, let me give you a sip of the wine Mr Frodo, it will ease your throat a little, you'll see."  
  
Now that the coughing had lessened, Frodo took a gulp of the wine and relaxed back into Sam's arms as the liquid soothed away the dreadful hack in his throat. But now his voice had diminished from a croak to a whisper, "I ca. . .aan't le. . .. t Me. . . rry. . . can't . . . take . . . I wo.. n't . . ."  
  
"Don't try to talk Mister Frodo," Sam put his finger on his master's lips to silence him. "You're just putting more strain on your poor throat."  
  
Frodo pushed Sam's finger away, once more straining his right shoulder. "Gi. . . ive me the sp. . . sp. . . oon." Frodo indicated that he wanted to sit up a little more and gestured towards the tray.  
  
"No Mr Frodo, you heard what Lady Melystra said." Sam reminded him. "I'll help you if you want any more." He moved the tray over to Frodo again and prepared to feed him the rest of the meal.  
  
"No S-ssam!" Frodo hissed through gritted teeth. "I w-wa. . . nt t-to do it my. . .sssself!" He managed to reach forward enough to get hold of Sam's hand, holding the spoon. "Gi-vve it t-to me Sssam!"  
  
"Mr Frodo you're going to hurt yourself," Sam moved his master's hand back onto the counterpane. "Now open wide and I'll feed you."  
  
"I. . . not. . . an in-ffffant! Gi-vvve!" Frodo demanded the spoon with a decidedly ferocious tone to his voice. "n-n-ow, Ssss-am!"  
  
Sam almost dropped the spoon with shock. Frodo had never talked to him like that before, even if he did something really stupid or fussed too much over him. Frodo always accepted it with good grace, whether he needed the fussing or not.   
  
Frodo could hear his voice and realised with horror the tone that he had taken with his Sam and yet, while it was his voice and his desire to take the spoon from his servant, there was something else within him making him feel angry, possessive! He had never been possessive in his life. There had been many accusations, chiefly from the Sackville-Baggins tribe, that he had schemed and calculated his way into Bilbo's affections in order to become his sole heir, but Frodo, and those who loved him, knew it was not true – he had never lusted after dragon's gold.  
  
Frodo could feel his anger at Sam changing to tears, but the tears were for himself. He did not want anyone to take the Ring from him and the thought of handing the precious thing to his cousin Merry was too appalling to contemplate. In his mind's eye Frodo could suddenly see the Ring glinting on its chain, peeping at him every so often from inside the slightly open neck of Merry's shirt. His cousin was laughing and everyone was petting and talking to Merry. Sam was stroking his hand and Pippin looked up at him even more adoringly.  
  
Frodo shook his head as much as he was able. Those thoughts were not of his bidding and the feeling that went with it was unbearable. Suddenly he recognised what he was being made to experience by the Ring – jealousy! He had never had a jealous thought in all his life before. If this was what the Ring was making him feel now, how would he be if he was forced to relinquish it to Merry?  
  
Frodo tried to compose himself. He looked up at Sam's devastated face and unclenched his fist. "J-jussst give the s-sspoon – plea- ease. I mu-sst have it." If he could at least try to feed himself a little he might convince Sam and the others that there was no need to give the Ring to Merry. He would recover and continue with the Quest.  
  
Sam finally acquiesced, so frightened had he been by Frodo's attitude he dare not agitate him further. He put the spoon in his master's hand and pushed the dish as close as he possibly could so that the reach would not be too far.  
  
Frodo managed to deliver a spoonful of food to his mouth and followed up with another and another. Pleased with his success, he now smiled up at the worried Sam. "Sssorry S-Sam. But you sss-see I c-can do it!"  
  
"Mr Frodo!" Sam's face suddenly became contorted with alarm. "Your shoulder!"  
  
Frodo dropped the spoon and cast his eyes down to where Sam was pointing. Far from helping his case, a large ribbon of blood was staining the bandage on his shoulder. Frodo fell back against the pillows as the pool spread to the linen. His body heaved with uncontrollable sobs and tears ran down his cheeks. He had failed. They would take the Ring from him and give it to Merry and he would die, though not from his injuries, but from the loss.  
  
0-****-0  
  
"My Lady," Aragorn spoke very quietly so that Pippin could not hear. "That was truly impressive, my thanks to you once again."  
  
"Do not thank me too soon, Estel." She raised her eyebrows a little as sadness tinged her voice. "It is a temporary mend. The effects will be short lived. I took his memory back to a better place, that is all. Sadly the later memories will eventually return."  
  
"Then do you think he ever can be healed?" Aragorn asked. He saw Merry's attentive ears prick up at the question. Hobbit hearing he had realised some time ago was better than that of men.  
  
"The scars in his mind are very deep and very dreadful." Galadriel touched Pippin's short curls lightly so that he looked up and smiled lovingly at the Lady, seemingly unaware of what she was saying, but still munching happily. "I have given him a brief respite so that he may enjoy his treat and perhaps take some healing from it."  
  
"Is there nothing more that you can do?" Merry would not normally have interrupted a conversation between Aragorn and the Lady of the Golden Wood, but when it came to Pip and his well-being, nothing else mattered to the hobbit. "Begging you pardon Milady." He added as politely as he could.  
  
"It is not something to be lightly undertaken," Galadriel said solemnly. "Because much else may be lost and it is a long and difficult road to take."  
  
"But if the little one is not going to get over the trauma in any other way," Aragorn said, "if this nightmare haunts him forever and affects every thing he does and says. . ." The ranger paused, looking for the right argument. "I can heal his body, but I have not the skill to heal his mind and I think perhaps the mind is more delicate and precious and harder to heal than any flesh and bone."  
  
"But has more need to be whole." Merry added quietly.  
  
"Indeed Meriadoc," Galadriel smiled at the hobbit. "You have learned much from Peregrin's healing, including what may not be healed and how to accept that."  
  
Merry bowed his head sadly and then, looking up at Pippin, his eyes lit with a soft glow of love and happiness at the pleasure Pippin was taking for the moment in his food. The little hobbit ate slowly but determinedly and tackled everything put before him with a will.  
  
"But there is a little hope." Galadriel spoke again. "But as I say, it is not an easy choice." The Lady paused for a moment looking around to see who's attention was on the conversation. She saw that all were listening except for Pippin, which was her intention. "I have the ability to wipe all memory from the little one's mind, to take every recollection of events, good and bad from him forever. He would become as a newborn child again."  
  
"But. . . but that would be. . ." Merry was stunned by this stark choice. He had hoped for something a little less drastic. "He would forget everyone and everything? His family and the Shire and. . . and everything?"  
  
"He could be re-taught much of what he has lost." Galadriel looked at the still happily munching hobbit. "Most of it would lie just beneath the surface and gradually he could be encouraged to regain those memories that need to be kept. But the bad memories could be banished forever."   
  
"Do you think Pippin would chose such a course himself?" Boromir asked.  
  
"I would not take such action without his consent." Galadriel replied. "He must first be counselled and the decision must be his." She turned to Merry again, "But I think, little one, you must be his guide."  
  
"I would willingly walk into the fires of Mount Doom for Pippin." Merry bit his lip a little. "But I do not know the way. I don't know if I am the best person to help him make such a choice."  
  
"No," Galadriel agreed. "It will be a difficult road but you shall have help."  
  
"Whatever healing skills I possess Merry," Aragorn spoke quietly, "be it for the body or mind, I gladly offer to make Pippin whole again."  
  
"If the wisdom of my years can be of any help in guiding Pippin to the right course," Legolas agreed, "it is at your disposal Merry."  
  
"Small help you might think a brusque dwarf may be in such matters," Gimli added. "It has been said we are cold and indifferent to plight of others and that may be true, but I have come to love the little one very dearly and if there is aught this dwarf can do to ease his pain, consider it done."  
  
"And I," Boromir said, "I did not even know what a halfling was ere I left my home, that scarcely seems possible now. Pippin has my heart and whatever strength lies in my body is his to command."  
  
"Meriadoc," Haldir spoke unexpectedly, laying his hand across his heart. "I owe Pippin a great debt. He enabled me to see where before I was blind. I would be grateful to repay any small part of that which he gave me, in any way I can."  
  
Merry looked about him, totally lost for words, but there was no need. As he watched Pippin still happily eating, Icicle came to Merry, and sat down next to him. She laid her great paw upon his knee and looked solemnly up into his face.  
  
"There Merry," Galadriel smiled at him. "I think you have volunteers enough to help Pippin make the right choice."  
  
"But. . . but. . ." Merry was glad to know he would not have to guide Pippin alone in this decision. "How must he choose? What must he do?"  
  
"He must recall all that happened." Galadriel's face became very solemn, understanding the enormity of this and the suffering it would cause to the halfling and his companions, "Then decide if he can live with those memories or not."  
  
TBC  
  
  
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Author's Notes  
  
Hi Everyone – I decided to do Author's Notes today as Kookaburra keeps trying to encourage me to take more responsibility for this story. I started beta-ing for her around chapter 7 (the notorious chapter 7), but I added material and that was when we started co-writing.  
  
Nowadays we plan the plot via email and then we usually write about half each and we each take a section to work on. Then Marigold beta's it and I generally end up fixing any problems that she finds.  
  
I'm putting this note in to explain the process, as Kookaburra is forever saying to reviewers – oh Llinos did that bit or whatever because she always feels bad about accepting kudos for the parts I write.  
  
Anyway – we work as a team so just address your praise (ahem) or flames (no pleasssse not) to K&LL Incorporated.  
  
Thank you for your attention  
Llinos  
  
Hi all, this is just a bit from Kookaburra- You all have no idea how much fun it is to work with Llinos and Marigold like this. They really do give their all for the story, and I have learned sooo much by working with them. This story would not be a quarter of what it has grown to be under their guidance. Thanks guys!   
  
(This has been a K&LL Incorporated production in co-operation with Marigold.)  
  
Q&A  
  
  
LilyBaggins: LOL at the use of Shire geography to gauge Pippin's pain--that was so clever. :)  
Llinos: Thought that from 1 to 10 was a bit too modern.  
  
LilyBaggings: More Frodo angst, eh? and you haven't forgotten my story?  
Llinos: Kookaburra's done a deal with you! I can tell – naughty Kookaburra! :-)  
Kookaburra:*looks guilty* no I haven't forgotten it, I'm just not able to write two fics at once, though maybe I'll try soon!  
  
HMP the hobbit vampire jedi: oh, so sweet ^.^  
Llinos: That's hobbits for you.  
  
Anon: Great story! Please continue...  
Llinos: Couldn't refuse you Anon! :-)   
  
Baylor: Don't take so long with a new chapter this time! Looking forward to it.  
Llinos: Well you know how it is Baylor – butter spread over too much bread.  
  
spike: nice touch with pippin thinking his breeches had betrayed him by coming off so easily  
Llinos: Bad breeches – oh and that's a nice Kookaburra touch.  
  
Claudia: Yay! Finally found this!  
Llinos: Oh please, please don't lose it again Claudia – we value our reviewers – each and every one.  
  
Coriandra: It's sad too, considering what's going to happen to Boromir  
Llinos: Oh no! What's going to happen to Boz! Oh yes – bad stuff, perhaps we'll get Icy to save him, I'm sure she could.  
  
august wynd: ..and a new ringbearer  
Llinos: Hmm – can we let it come to that – keep reading!  
  
Dylan: Surely, it will be difficult to find a good ending to this story...  
Llinos: We're working on it – but not for a while yet.  
  
Dylan: Keep posting new chapters!  
Llinos: You keep reading – we'll keep posting – it's a deal!  
  
Shirebound: What an interesting conversation about the "next Ringbearer"!  
Llinos: This bit almost wrote itself. Always believed that was why Gandalf let M&P go on the Quest and not some great elf lord.  
  
katakanadian: About how many chapters do you think this is going to end up being? 40? 50?  
Llinos: That's in the lap of the Valar.  
  
TTTurtle: You are NOT seriously considering leaving Pippin and Frodo behind???? MORE Frodoangst coming!!!!!!  
Llinos: Put those two things together and it actually works! No that's a joke – honestly.  
  
TTTurtle: Poor Pippin........he is going to have many flashbacks I fear :(  
Llinos: Hmm – looks like that's the way it's going – sorry folks. 


	35. Shocked

Moria's Revenge - Chapter 35 Shocked  
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos  
Beta: Marigold  
  
******  
  
Sam stared in speechless horror at the crimson blood that was now spreading over Frodo's coverlet. His dismay only lasted a second, and in the next moment he grabbed a corner of the linen sheet and pressed it as hard as he could to try and stem the bleeding.  
  
"Melystra!" He shouted, using the lady elf's first name only in his panic. "Frodo needs help! Please hurry!" then to Frodo Sam said softly, trying to keep his voice even and reassuring, "Don't you worry, Mr Frodo, Sam's here, your Sam's got you..."  
  
The door to the healing chamber swung widely as Melystra, Silael, and Deilen rushed in. The three had been restocking supplies in another room when they heard Sam's shout. The sturdy hobbit slid off the bed to make room without being told as the three elves surrounded Frodo. Melystra snatched the food tray up and away so that it did not get upset in all the commotion, Deilen pressed his hand in the spot Sam's had just vacated, and Silael drew out a small blade and started to cut the bandages from Frodo's shoulder. "What happened?" demanded the healer as he worked at getting the bandages off from under the pressure of Deilen's hand.  
  
"We were just eating, and then his shoulder started to bleed!" Sam stammered, wringing his hands at his helplessness. "Is Mr Frodo going to be all right?"  
  
"Are you sure that's all he was doing?" Melystra asked suspiciously. "He must have moved it awkwardly at least."  
  
"Well, err um, I don't rightly know what..." Sam stuttered. He would have liked to explain what had happened but was embarrassed that Frodo had disobeyed orders to let himself be fed.  
  
"It was my fault," Frodo murmured, "I'm sorry... I didn't... didn't want..." He broke off too pained and weak to speak further.  
  
"You lie still Frodo Baggins." Silael said quickly as he finally managed to remove the last shreds of the bandage to expose the wound that was pumping blood at a steady and frightening rate with every beat of Frodo's heart. "Don't try to talk, you'll only distress your injury further."  
  
"But it wasss... me... I... I... please... please don't...let…Merry... the Ring!" Frodo gasped desperately, trying to make them understand.  
  
"Hush Frodo," Melystra soothed the hobbit's forehead as Silael packed a thick wad of gauze against the damaged shoulder, holding it there as it quickly became drenched with blood and then rapidly replacing it with another.  
  
"It's not slowing," Silael whispered, quietly but with a note of panic in his usually calm voice. "I'll have to sew the artery… if I can."  
  
Deilen, freed from applying pressure to the reopened wound now that Silael had taken over, swiftly moved to gather the required tools. Sam stood trembling at the end of the bed, peering over the rail at his master. "He will be all right? Please! He'll be all right won't he?" The elves were too busy and too unsure at that point to answer.  
  
+~****~+  
  
Merry was a meticulous creature and liked order and routine in his life. The Quest had thrown much of this existence into disarray, although he was not so pedantic as to count the cost of such a disruption when it was for the sake of his friends.  
  
But the awful things that had happened to his dear little Pippin had frustrated him beyond measure. Gladly, if he could turn back time, would Merry have taken his place and suffered the ordeal in his cousin's stead. Every rest he had taken since Pippin's kidnapping by the orcs had been uneasy, riven with guilt and self-recriminations. Now it was up to him to help Pippin to make a terrible and drastic choice and, although it was a daunting task, Merry saw it as his chance to try and do his best for Pippin and to repair a little of the damage he felt so responsible for.  
  
He would be equal to the task, Merry decided, regardless of what his inner doubts told him. He could and he would help Pippin make the right choice. In order to do this the future Master of Buckland approached the task in a way his father would have approved, using the training and discipline he had been taught from an early age. Merry would lay his plan carefully. He would draw from Pippin all the details of what had happened, once and for all, so that his young cousin would know whether or not he would ever be able to live with those recollections and know that he was not to blame for what had happened. Perhaps even to realise that he should be proud of his strength in surviving the ordeal.  
  
But if Pippin found that once he had recalled all that had happened to him that he could not live with it, he could make the decision to have his memories of everything erased. It would mean starting again, at the age of twenty-eight. To become as an infant once more and relearn the entire sum of his knowledge, starting with how to walk and talk.  
  
Merry realised he was being selfish, but the thought that appalled him the most, was not seeing his cousin reduced to a mewling infant, but that Pippin would not know him anymore. Would remember nothing of their childhood together, of their ever-growing friendship and love for each other.  
  
But, on the other hand, his cousin would be able to live again, free from the torment of what had happened to him. Merry knew that it had to be Pippin's own decision and he would not try to influence it to what he, himself wanted. But he would do his very best to help Pippin come to terms with what had happened.  
  
Pippin was still munching happily on his food, taking the occasional sip of wine from the cup into which Aragorn had poured a miniscule amount of the rich red liquid, a damp goblet, he had called it laughingly. The little hobbit's memory was still blanked by the enchantment Galadriel had woven about his mind - a temporary state that She had warned would not last longer than the evening, perhaps four or five hours.   
  
A whole evening, Merry thought, four or five hours in which Pippin could be happy and laugh and smile and not know what had been done to him. Seeing his cousin's face like that was such a relief, Merry felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Yet it would not last, and Pippin would once more become the terrified, trembling, crying little mite who clung to his cousin or his nursing warg like a frightened infant in any case. "What's to lose for Pip?" Merry considered, "he hardly knows anything anyway at the moment. If he returned to infanthood, at least he would be happy and not haunted and tortured by his memories at every waking moment."  
  
"What's the matter Merry?" Pippin suddenly jolted his cousin from his reverie. It surprised Merry doubly so, as he was not used to Pippin's voice sounding so light and happy - not any more. Not since before the terrible loss of Gandalf. That was when this nightmare had begun.  
  
They had all been devastated and, unforgivably, he, Meriadoc, charged with the care of his younger cousin, had lost sight of Pippin, allowing the orcs to steal him and.. and... wreak their dreadful revenge upon his innocent body and mind. How long had it been? Merry calculated the time quickly in his head, each day had seemed like a lifetime. But it was only a week - seven of the longest days he had ever lived through.  
  
"Sorry, Pip," Merry pulled himself back to the present. "I was just thinking... about... um... I don't know... nothing really." Merry was so glad to see Pippin's eyes shining, with no hint of horror or pain in them, that he actually managed a smile himself. "Are you enjoying your supper? Here have some more pie, Gimli made the pastry and Legolas made the mushrooms, it's very good isn't it."  
  
"I'd actually like some more wine please." Pippin held out his goblet, "Come on Merry, you don't usually stint me."  
  
"Not too much Pippin." Aragorn intervened. It was obvious that the hobbit had no recollection of what had happened to him at the moment. "You've been a bit sick and it might not be a good idea."  
  
"I have?" Pippin's eyebrows shot up. "I feel perfectly well - I think I do. Well if I can't have more wine, I'll have more pie, thank you."  
  
Merry and Aragorn bumped heads as they both quickly leaned over to serve Pip, anxious to give him more pie, before he queried the nature of his indisposition.  
  
Pippin laughed out loud at the misfortune of his two companions. "Oh poor Merry, poor Strider!" he chortled. "That was a great meeting of minds." Pippin giggled for a while at his own wit, while everyone else at the table laughed and smiled, partly at the joke, but mostly from delight at seeing the little hobbit genuinely happy. Pip could barely remember the last time one of his witticisms had been so well received.  
  
"But I'd like some more pie, before it's gone." Pippin beamed at Legolas and Gimli and raised his now empty goblet. "My compliments to the chefs, it is quite splendid!"  
  
"Why thank you young hobbit." Gimli stood and bowed in response. "Gimli son of Gloin is happy to be at your service Master Took and at your family's."  
  
"Oh you are full of courtesy, today, Mr Gimli, Sir." Pippin attempted to stand and bow in return, scattering his cushions in the process. But the wound in his stomach suddenly made itself felt, in spite of Galadriel's blanking of his mind. Merry and Aragorn, again as one, jumped to steady Pip and Aragorn lifted him as Merry replaced the cushions and they sat him carefully back down. "I think I hurt my belly." Pippin frowned at the searing pain that shot through him.  
  
"Yes Pip," Merry climbed back into his own place, "don't move too quickly, you had a little bit of an accident."  
  
"Owww! A big bit of an accident by the feel of it." Pippin squeezed his hands against his aching middle. But the sight of the pie reminded him he was still hungry. "But I think I could still manage a little more pie Merry." He glanced around him at the people seated at the table, frowning a little as he did not recognise everyone and then realising there were some people missing. "Or do we need to save some for Frodo and Sam? Oh and what about Gandalf? He's sure to want some, I know he likes mushrooms even though he pretends he doesn't."  
  
"Frodo and Sam have already had some." Merry explained quickly, looking anxiously up at Aragorn hoping he would supply the rest of the answer.  
  
"Do not worry about Gandalf for now, Pippin." Aragorn said gently. He would not lie, but he did not want to plunge the little one back into despair ere his brief respite were due to end. "You may finish the pie as you enjoyed it so much." He served the remaining pastry and filling onto Pippin's plate and watched with pleasure as Pippin set to once more.  
  
As the hobbit happily demolished the contents of his plate, he suddenly felt a nudge against his leg and something heavy rested on his thigh. It was an odd feeling and Pippin could not place it, he thought it must be Merry trying to gain his attention. He pushed the whatever-it-was away and carried on eating. The nudge came again and Pippin muttered, "What do you want Merry? Can it wait? You can see I'm busy eating."   
  
Merry looked at him with a puzzled expression, making Pippin glance down to see what the weight was on his leg. "Aiieee! Merry, help me!" Pippin struggled away from the large white muzzle that was pushing against him, trying to insinuate its big white furry head under his hand. "It's a great wolf – quick someone do something!" Pippin had crawled into Merry's lap to get as far away from the scary monster as he possibly could.  
  
"Pip! It's all right." Merry soothed him. "She's quite tame, honestly." Pippin looked in astonishment as Merry reached out a hand to stroke the enormous white head. All he could see were the great gleaming fangs of the beast. "In fact, she's very fond of you. Why don't you pat her? She won't hurt you, I promise."  
  
Aragorn left his seat once more to gently pet Icicle and show Pippin that he need not be afraid of the wolf-like warg. "Trust us Pippin, she only wants to be friends with you. Just reach out your hand to her."  
  
Pippin, very nervously and with several questioning glances at both Aragorn and Merry, reached out a trembling hand to the great monster. To his amazement the fearsome wolf pushed her head under his hand and then moved around to lick his fingers. Growing in confidence, he ran his hand over her fur and gradually climbed off Merry's lap and back to his own chair. Icicle settled down again with her head in Pippin's lap and the hobbit, more puzzled than ever, carried on eating, glancing down every so often at the monstrous wolf that appeared to have befriended him.  
  
+~****~+  
  
Pippin was growing sleepy. His eyes were growing bigger and rounder and, in spite of his jolly spirits and happy chatter to the others, Aragorn decided that he should not be allowed to get over-tired on his first outing. He leaned over to Merry and whispered, "Pippin has had enough excitement for today, I think it's bedtime."  
  
"But he's so... so Pip again Aragorn. Please let him stay a little longer and enjoy the rest of the day." Let me remember him as he was just a little longer, Merry thought desperately.  
  
"Merry, you know that the Lady Galadriel's enchantment will wear off in another few hours." Aragorn had left his seat now, more easily to talk to Merry. "It would be better to get him settled back in bed before the memories return, don't you think?"  
  
"Yes, I see that." the hobbit agreed, Pip's well being was what mattered, not what Merry wanted. "I'll tell him then." Merry put his arm around Pippin's shoulder and hugged him in closely. "Pip you must be tired. You know, it's your first day up since you were ill. You had best go to bed now."  
  
"Ohh Merry, that's not fair." Pippin sulked. He had been in the midst of relating an anecdote to Gimli about how the frog he had caught ended up in Will Whitfoot's pocket at the Midsummer Free Fair and that the frog had made funny noises and wriggled about every time the stout, rotund mayor had spoken and how the old hobbit hadn't realised what everyone was laughing at. "I was just getting to the best part."  
  
"You mean the part when your father had you by the ear and was about to take you back to the inn and lock you in the room for the rest of the fair." Merry laughed at the memory.  
  
"Yes, and Bilbo and Cousin Ferumbras both said I couldn't possibly have done it because I'd been sitting up on the wall the whole time." Pippin giggled.  
  
"Hmm!" Gimli scratched his head. "So who planted the frog in the mayor's pocket?"  
  
"Why Merry of course!" Pippin squealed with mirth at the memory. "He always looks so innocent, nobody ever suspected him of tricks like that - well no one except Gandalf that is." Pippin looked around again, a puzzled frown replacing his laugh. "Where is he? I hoped he would come soon because I wanted to ask him to finish the story about Radagast the Brown that he was telling me in the caves."  
  
"The only reason I planted the frog was to stop you from doing it and getting caught." Merry explained, mostly so that he could change the subject away from Gandalf again. "Pippin you never get away with any mischief, even when you are completely innocent."  
  
"And you are not getting away with staying up any longer." Aragorn said firmly. "Come Master Peregrin, shall I bear you to your chamber, or will Boromir carry you?"  
  
"I can walk." Pippin stated indignantly. He clambered down from the chair and looked for the first time with some surprise at the odd clothes he was wearing. "What is this, a fancy dress party?"  
  
"Yes," laughed Boromir, "and I have been given a forfeit, which is to carry a hobbit up the stairs to his chamber and put him to bed for the night." Without further explanation, Boromir lifted Pippin up in his strong arms and began to carry him towards the flet.  
  
"Boromir, that's not funny." Pippin protested. "I hadn't finished talking to Gimli."  
  
"Well you can talk to him tomorrow," Boromir did not relent. "Healer's orders are that you rest now and no argument." The broad warrior kept a tight hold on Pippin, letting him know there was no reprieve to be had and the hobbit shrugged and hung on, looking over the hefty shoulder as he was marched towards the flet.   
  
Merry had been suggesting to Gimli that now might be a good time to take Icicle for a walk and feed, as Pippin wasn't too sure of her at the moment. He suddenly realised that Boromir had started up the steps of the flet without him and, not wanting to be left behind, he hurried after the two as quickly as he could. As Merry trotted up the long winding steps to the healing chamber, he realised that Boromir and Pippin were getting further and further away every moment. They were about 100 feet up now and so Merry put on a little spurt, occasionally jumping up two steps at a time, going as fast as his hobbit legs would carry him.  
  
Haldir and Legolas followed on with Aragorn behind them. Legolas started to call after Merry to be careful, he could see that the hobbit was getting slightly hasty in his hurry to catch up with Pippin as he traversed the spiral staircase. The flets had not been designed for hobbits and the central pole was slightly too far in for the smaller creatures to reach.  
  
Pippin looked back to see Merry trying to catch up and whispered to Boromir, "Wait for Merry, he's getting left behind." Then he called out loud. "Come on Merry!"  
  
Merry thought for a second that Pippin was troubled in some way and put on another extra spurt. He had just reached Boromir's heels when Pippin looked down at him with a grin. "You should get Aragorn to carry you up, it's much easier."  
  
Merry opened his mouth to reply, but just as he did, his foot slipped on the wide step and as he brought his other foot down, he missed the actual platform and jolted down hard on the step below. He had now lost his balance completely and tried to grab something… anything solid to stop himself from falling. He found the edge of Boromir's cloak but, as he grasped it, he felt the Gondorian lurch backwards slightly with the jolt. Merry let go in a panic, terrified that he would pull Pippin and Boromir over with him and was suddenly falling through space to the echo of Pippin's terrified scream of "Meerrrrrryyyy!"  
  
Time slowed. Merry felt himself tumble over and over. Felt his body turning in midair. Knew that when he hit the ground, the life would be crushed out of him. It was too high. He could not survive a fall like this. 'Goodbye Pip!' He thought. 'I'm sorry.'  
  
+~****~+  
  
Sam watched the elves bustle around Frodo and wrung his hands in frustration at his inability to do anything. Why had he given in to Mr Frodo? He was sure his gaffer would have some choice words to say to him if the elder hobbit could see Samwise now.  
  
"Samwise." Silael's voice cut into Sam's thoughts. "Could you come here, please?"  
  
Leaping up from the stool where he had been sitting, the sturdy hobbit quickly crossed to where the head healer stood. Without a word, Silael lifted Samwise and gently deposited him on the bed next to Frodo.  
  
The horrible bloodstains were still on the covers, but the tainted sheets had been moved to one side. Now Frodo appeared to be sleeping peacefully, and a new bandage was bound to Sam's master's shoulder. Deilen had a hand on the dressing, and was apparently pressing down on it quite hard.  
  
"Now, Samwise" Silael said finally, "you must listen carefully. We have stopped the bleeding now, but the wound still requires much to be kept still. Can you keep a careful watch on your master and be sure he does not move?" The elf smiled reassuringly at Sam, his expression, belaying any fears the hobbit might have had that he was being blamed for Frodo's relapse. "You must keep a careful watch on him and call us if he tries to put any strain on the injury. He needs to be completely still to have a chance to heal."  
  
Sam nodded in understanding, and looked at Frodo's pale face, and asked, "How is Mr Frodo, Mr Silael? Is he going to be all right?"  
  
At this, Frodo turned his head up and cracked open an eye. "I am well enough, Sam." he whispered. "Just a bit tired..."  
  
"As well you should be, Master Baggins." Said Melystra sternly. "At least with as much blood as you lost, you will not be able to defy Samwise again." Sam blushed hard at the lady's words. He had not wanted them to think badly of him, but he also did not want them to think badly of Mr Frodo.  
  
"We will be in the next room." interjected Silael. "If Frodo's arm starts to go numb, or his fingernails become very pale, call for us. And remember – do not let him move about." As one, the three elves turned and glided out of the room, leaving the two hobbits alone.  
  
"Sam," Frodo said softly. " I'm so sorry..."  
  
"No, Mr Frodo, shh- *I'm* sorry, I let you hurt yourself..."  
  
Frodo heaved a sigh. "Sam, stop apologising, it was my fault. I deliberately went against healer's orders. I just...I just can't think of giving up the Ring, Sam." Frodo's voice lowered ominously. "I won't let them take it from me."  
  
"Oh, Mr Frodo, now I've gone and made a mess out of things. I knew I should have let Mr Strider come and explain things. It's just we're all worried about you, and…" Sam stopped suddenly, bit his lip and looked down at the coverlet, refusing to meet Frodo's eyes.  
  
"What is it Sam?" Frodo insisted. "Come, tell me what's bothering you."  
  
Sam raised his gaze reluctantly. "Well, it's just this, Mr Frodo, and please don't be angry at your Sam for this, but," Sam paused, collecting his thoughts, "I would rather have you stay here, Mr Frodo. Here where it's safe. I'd hate to leave you, and a minute wouldn't go by when I wouldn't think of you, but if you were safe, I think it would be easier on my mind than to be with you on the road, and see you fall to some danger we don't even know about." Frodo was quiet for a moment, taking time to sort through Sam's rather confused little speech, then replied.  
  
"What about me, Sam?"  
  
"How do you mean, Mr Frodo?"  
  
"Do you think it would be any easier on me, knowing that you and Merry are out there, with the hosts of Sauron at your heels, and that you will most likely not ever come back to me? Not," Frodo added with sardonic resignation in his voice, "to mention the Ring. I will not let anyone else carry it, much less my young cousin."  
  
Frodo's voice had started carrying the threatening quality it had before when his shoulder wound reopened, and Sam decided to change the subject. "Well, we don't have to worry about that now, Mr Frodo. So why don't you close your eyes and try to get some sleep. Your Sam's here, and he'll watch over you."  
  
Frodo soon calmed, and after awhile, slept with Sam keeping a vigil at his side.  
  
+~****~+  
  
" Meerrrrrryyyy!" Pippin screamed as he saw his cousin disappear over the edge of the stairwell "Nooooo! Nooooo! Nooooo! Merrryyyy!" He squeezed his eyes shut in horror and still he could see Merry's terrified face as he fell backwards into nothingness.  
  
Boromir held the hobbit tightly to him, frantically wanting to look down and see what had happened to Merry, but petrified of what he knew he would see, a tiny crushed body, lying bloody and broken at the bottom of the great tree.  
  
Pippin fought and panicked in his arms, struggling to get away, to somehow try and save his Merry, but Boromir hung on tightly, moving back from the edge with Pippin. For a moment his consciousness did a nightmarish somersault and he was back in the caves of Moria and the hobbit struggling in his arms was Frodo. His mind flashed back to that awful moment. He was pulling Frodo away and watching Gandalf fall into that terrible black void. His lips moved involuntarily and he whispered in recalled horror, "Gandalf! No!"  
  
Boromir shook his head to clear the week-old image away. But the new one was no better. Pippin was hysterical, his fists were beating on Boromir's chest as he frantically tried to break away and find his cousin, hoping to deny the evidence of his own eyes.   
  
Boromir moved a little further up the stairway until they reached a platform. There he sat down and pulled Pippin firmly to him. "Hush Pippin, you have to hush now, little one." He could not say it was all right, because it was not. Would never be. Not for Pippin without his Merry. Perhaps to have his mind wiped and start again at his beginning would be the best option for him now. Boromir felt his hands shaking in anguish, even as he held tightly to Pippin. Why had he not moved faster? He could have saved Merry, he should have caught him. Why did Merry let go of his cloak? Boromir realised all of a sudden, as the image played back in his mind, brave Merry had not wanted to pull him and Pippin over as well, and so had let go.   
  
"Merry! Merry! Merry!" Pippin's anguished sobs repeated his beloved cousin's name over and over. What had happened? Why had he fallen like that? No it couldn't be true! Pippin could hardly catch his breath, he felt as if he were suffocating. His grief was too terrible to bear, this could not be happening – not again. What did that mean? Again?   
  
Suddenly Pippin became aware through his hysterical panic of a whisper near to his ear. "Gandalf! No!"  
  
Pippin's mind was suddenly filled with another picture. Once more he felt his soul lurch as he saw Merry fall backwards off the staircase, and then the image was replaced with another – Gandalf! Gandalf falling! He had fallen – in Moria! Pippin remembered now. Gandalf, the orcs, the revenge they had taken on him for the Balrog monster and Gandalf… falling… falling…to his death in the black chasm.  
  
No, it was all too terrible to think about. They had all been lying to him, Gandalf was dead, perhaps Frodo and Sam were dead too, and now the worst thing imaginable! Merry was dead! Pippin knew he had only one thing left to do. His miserable existence was not worth continuing. He had to escape Boromir's grasp and throw himself over the edge of the flet too. There was no other choice. He had to follow Merry. He managed to pull his shaking body away from the Gondorian's grasp and crawled towards the edge of the platform.  
  
+~****~+  
  
A searing pain shot through Merry's wrist and his whole body jolted painfully to a halt and then jerked as if rebounding. He had stopped and was now hanging in midair suspended by his aching wrist. His heart was beating so fast he could hear it pounding in his ears, the only other sound he could make out was the plaintive wailing that he knew was coming from Pippin. He tried to call out, to say he was all right, but no words would come, his voice was frozen in his dry throat. More voices were added now. That sounded like Legolas saying something, what it was he could not quite make out. He felt another hand grasp the scruff of his collar and then another reach around under his armpit and he was being hauled upwards and back onto the flet stairway.  
  
"Is he all right?" A voice near his ear asked anxiously.  
  
A strong pair of hands, large human hands, Aragorn? They moved skilfully over his body, pressing slightly, turning his limbs about, feeling his forehead, pulling his eyelids apart. "He's mostly shocked, I think." It was Aragorn's voice. "Quickly Legolas, run up and tell Pippin he's safe. I'll bring him up myself as soon as I know he's all in one piece. Then the voice turned its attention to him. "Merry? Merry! Can you hear me? Say something. Do you hurt anywhere?"  
  
"Pip?" was all he could manage initially. Then, "what happened? I was falling."  
  
"You slipped off the staircase, but I think you're all right." Aragorn lifted the hobbit's wrist up and tutted as he saw that it was swelling up and turning a deep shade of purple. "I think your wrist is either broken or perhaps just sprained. Also you've had a nasty shock. You'll feel a bit shaky for a while, I expect."  
  
"How? Umm h-how… did?" Merry found it difficult to speak, he was badly shaken and his whole body was trembling with reaction. He suddenly felt unreasonably cold and began to shiver, his teeth chattering in unison with his quivering body.  
  
"How did you stop?" Aragorn took his cloak off and wrapped it around the shaking hobbit. "Haldir. I have never seen any creature, man or elf, move so fast in my life. He reacted in a less time than it takes to draw breath and reached out and caught you as you fell. It was quite amazing to see."  
  
"It was not so incredible my Lord Aragorn." A voice next to the ranger's reached Merry now and he ventured to open his eyes, which he only just realised had been firmly closed. Haldir was stooping next to Strider, looking at him with deep concern. "I just regret that I have injured your wrist so badly, Merry."  
  
"Better his wrist, my dear Haldir, than his head." Aragorn chided. "You are too modest. It was an amazing feat."  
  
"Th-thank you H-Haldir." Merry stammered, starting to find his voice at last. "It was v-very brave of you and cl-clever too. I am a s-stupid, cl-clumsy hobbit to fall. I-I'm s-sorry." Merry suddenly felt himself becoming faint as the blood returned to his head with a rush and the world turned topsy-turvy once more. Before he passed out he managed just one more question. "Pip?"  
  
+~****~+  
  
Legolas reached the upper platform in record time. Just as Pippin had pulled free of Boromir's grasp and was crawling purposefully towards the precipitous edge. He grabbed the hobbit in his arms, just as Boromir, shaking himself from his nightmare recollection, also threw himself across the distance and caught hold of Pippin's ankles. Between the two of them they lifted the sobbing, hysterical hobbit up as gently as possible and Legolas pulled him into a hug as he sank to the floor and rocked Pippin to and fro to calm him as much as he could.   
  
"Pippin, it's all right. Merry is all right. I promise you." Legolas crooned the words over and over, although he seemed not to be getting through to the distraught youngster. "Merry is alive, I promise."  
  
"He's alive?" Boromir could scarcely believe his ears. "How can that be? How could he survive that fall? It was a hundred feet at least."  
  
"Haldir caught him, he didn't fall." Legolas looked up into Boromir's wonder filled face and smiled. "Our guardian elf certainly proved his mettle on this occasion again. It was a miraculous feat. If I did not know better, I would say his hand was guided by The Valar."  
  
"Well thanks to The Valar, yet again." Boromir sighed with deep relief. "Do you think Pippin understands yet?"  
  
"No," Legolas peered at the sobbing form in his arms. "Are you feeling up to going down and telling Aragorn that he needs to bring Merry up now if possible. I think if Pippin actually sees him it might calm him."  
  
"I can do that." Boromir agreed, grateful to find a useful task in this situation. His head was spinning with the thought of losing Merry and then finding he had been saved. The rush of sheer relief, on top of the panicked grief, as he had tried to manage Pippin at the same time, had made him extremely light headed. "I'll get him at once." He took a deep breath and set off back down the staircase, holding firmly to the central support for balance.  
  
Boromir reached the level where Merry was being tended, a little more slowly than he might normally have descended the stairs. Merry's accident had made him far more cautious than before, but the relief when he actually saw the hobbit with his own eyes helped him to breath a little more easily at last.  
  
"Aragorn, is he all right?" Boromir peered at the wrapped up bundle in the ranger's arms. "Pippin is in a terrible state, can you bring Merry up to him?"  
  
"Yes I was about to." Aragorn pulled the cloak back a little to show Merry's unconscious face. "He passed out, probably from the shock to his system. But I think he will be all right, he just needs a little time to recover."  
  
"Master Haldir," Boromir gave a courteous little bow, "I understand that thanks and commendations are due to you for the life of our dear Merry. I am humbly at your service now and for as long as I draw breath."  
  
"It was fortune or the Valar that guided my hand." Haldir bowed in return. "But I accept your thanks and service with equal gratitude." The elf looked to Merry then up towards Pippin. "I think our next task though is to reunite the periain as soon as possible. Little Pippin is no doubt distressed at the possible fate of his cousin."  
  
The ranger started up the stairs with his burden and Haldir and Boromir followed closely behind. When they reached the platform where Legolas was still trying to calm Pippin, Aragorn sat next to the elf and tried to get Pippin to focus on the hobbit in his arms.   
  
But by now Pippin was inconsolable. He sobbed over and over, "Merry gone! Merry gone! Gandalf… Gandalf…"  
  
"Let's take them both up to the healing chamber," Legolas suggested. "It might be easier if we can bring Merry round first."  
  
The party carried on up to the healing chamber and found Silael and Melystra both in attendance. Carefully they laid both the hobbits on the big bed. Legolas continued to try and calm Pippin, while Melystra gently patted Merry's face to bring him round.  
  
As soon as the older hobbit opened his eyes he was aware of Pippin and, brushing away immediate offers of water and a warning from Silael to mind his wrist, he crawled over to his crying, distraught cousin and wrapped his arms around him, realising too late that Silael had been right about the wrist. "Pip, it's me. Open your eyes, stop crying."  
  
Aragorn gently lifted Pippin up into a sitting position and forced his head around until he was looking directly into Merry's face. "Look Pippin! Merry's alive! Do you see?"  
  
Merry held the trembling bundle that was Pippin as tightly as he could with one arm while Silael inspected his now purplish, swollen wrist.  
  
"Shh, Pippin," He whispered into a small pointed ear. "I'm all right, we're safe, shhh..."  
  
Pippin finally seemed to register who it was that was holding him. "Oh Merry! What happened? You fell down. I was so frightened – I thought I'd lost you… I – I was going to jump after you. I couldn't live if you were gone. Oh Merry… Merry!"  
  
"Poor Pip. I'm sorry I scared you so much! You know I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you." Merry felt the tears well up inside him at the thought of his little Pippin throwing himself off the great drop as well. "Can you forgive me for being so clumsy, I'm so sorry."  
  
Pippin threw himself into his cousin's arms, interrupting Silael's examination. "Merry, Merry, don't be sorry. You're alive, that's all that matters. You didn't die."  
  
Pippin hiccoughed a few sobs and pushed his face more firmly into Merry's shoulder. Merry could feel Pippin's mouth moving, and could hear the soft noises his little cousin was making, but he could not quite make out the words. Shrugging a bit, Merry manoeuvred Pippin's face out of his dampened shirt and up to look at him. Now Merry could make out what Pip was sobbing.  
  
"G-Gandalf, oh, Gandalf...I'm so sorry, so, so s-s-sorry...Gandalf..." Pippin whimpered over and over like a litany. Merry realized with a jolt why Pippin was so upset. It was not Merry's fall, but Gandalf's the little hobbit was crying about. Merry's mishap must have reminded Pippin of the wizard's fall in Moria.  
  
"Oh, poor little Pippin..." Merry closed his eyes against the grief – Gandalf's death was still an aching wound in his heart, but right now he was grieving more for the loss of the carefree Pippin that had been granted to him for a few hours. Pippin soon quieted to Merry's soothing, and now simply stared at nothing, his eyes glassy, and only emitted a trembling sigh or wet sniffle now and again. As Pippin's tears seemed to have run out, Merry felt a strong urge, born of a force of habit to fish out a handkerchief and wipe Pippin's puffy red eyes and nose. 'Sticklebacks,' Merry thought, 'of course I'd leave my 'kerchief in my other shirt at a time like this!'  
  
Fortunately, Boromir, who was hovering concernedly nearby in the corner, also noticed that Pippin's tears had abated and produced a square of cloth. The only experience the Gondorian had ever had with upset children had been with Faramir when his smaller brother was crying about some hurt, his own or someone else's. The hobbits may not be children, but they were very open in their emotions and perceptions and felt things keenly. Young Faramir was very much like these hobbits, Boromir realized. He felt others' pain as if it were his own, and in his youth was as expressive in his emotions as the halflings.  
  
Smiling at the memories despite the sad situation, Boromir settled himself next to Pippin and carefully wiped at the swollen eyes. Pippin merely blinked at the touch, and so numb was he in his grief that he obeyed without protest when Boromir placed the soft cloth over his nose and told him to blow. Merry looked up into the Gondorian's kind grey eyes and smiled at him in thanks, before dropping his forehead to rest against Pippin's. Finally the green eyes focussed and looked up into Merry's.  
  
"M-Merry..I...I-" Pippin's voice gave out and he mouthed soundlessly for a few heartbeats, until he could make his voice work. "I'd forgotten, Merry – I'd f-forgotten..."  
  
"I know, Pip, I know," replied Merry softly. Pippin raised his head a bit at this.  
  
"How did you know I'd forgotten, Merry? How could I have forgotten th..that? How Merry? H-Have I forgotten anything else?" suddenly Pippin's eyes widened in alarm and he grabbed Merry's tunic with a force. "What about F-Frodo, and Sam? Are they – are they... g-gone too?" Pippin's eyes searched Merry's frantically.  
  
"No, sweet," breathed Merry, glad to be able to tell Pippin some half-good news. "Frodo was hurt, he...um." Merry thought for a second and decided that the truth was the best answer. "He was attacked by Gollum, Pip. But he's all right now, he's just recuperating and Sam is watching over him." Merry added quickly when Pippin gasped at the news.  
  
"Your wrist is bound, young Merry," cut in Silael softly. Merry had been so distracted by Pippin that he had all but forgotten the reason one of his hands was not free. The elf had expertly bandaged Merry's wrenched wrist, with even wrapping so that there were no pressure points. "Perhaps you would like some wine for the pain? A few swallows of medicinal vintage would also not be amiss for Peregrin as well after this shock." Merry nodded grimly to the Healer, and looked back down at Pippin. Yes, that would at least calm Pippin a little, and take the edge off his sorrow as the memories resurfaced.  
  
Boromir had risen and gone to fetch a flagon of wine and judiciously poured a small amount for Pippin and a slightly large measure for Merry. He and Aragorn also took a steadying cup while Legolas and Haldir went in search of Gimli. Merry sipped his wine cautiously and Pippin, watching the others carefully followed suit.  
  
"All right Pip?" Merry soothed the now much calmer hobbit. "What do you remember now?"  
  
Pippin looked sadly down at the goblet of wine in his trembling hands and began to twist it around by its stem, following the swirling liquid inside with his eyes as if it were the most important thing in the whole of Middle Earth. "Everything Merry." Pippin's bottom lip trembled and a single tear fell from his cheek and plopped into the wine. "I remember all of it now… and Merry, I don't think I can bear it. I wish I had fallen off the stairs and no one had caught me."  
  
+~****~+  
  
TBC  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Hi – Llinos here again in the Chair. I've been quite busy as I had to nip over and update Recaptured for it's one year old birthday on 03/03/03. Marigold said I had to post a chapter there on the anniversary as a present for all the loyal readers. So I did and if you have been reading – thank you. If you haven't and you like M&P why not?  
  
So back to M.R. Mostly me doing M&P this time, except for a nice chunk from Kooks towards the end and mostly Kooks doing F&S with me poking at it from time to time. Of course, Marigold gets to poke overall – because that's her job!  
  
The other thing that has been occupying Kookaburra, Marigold and me (as well as Baylor and Shirebound) is the start-up of a new Yahoo Group for Hobbit Lovers. If you haven't joined yet, what are you waiting for – it's called Quill and Inklings and you can find it on Yahoo. We can't post links on ff.net anymore, they get stripped out when you post, so if anyone has trouble finding it, drop Kookaburra or me a line and we'll point you in the right direction. Although we only opened it up for joining last Tuesday, there are already 74 members and the traffic is almost 300 messages. The profile is for people who want to read and write about hobbits and want to share information and resources with others to assist that.   
  
We already have a lively photos section, Kooks' art is there. Don't miss her picture of Pippin with Icicle and if you look in the "Adventures of Merry, Pip and Smagnu" section you can see my version of them! (I can't draw btw).  
  
Once more, thanks for all the reviews, here are some random answers to things that are not really questions but I don't have a better name for this bit. Llinos  
  
Q&A  
HMP: decided to do another "review while reading"  
Llinos: Really like these – shows you're paying attention :-).  
HMP: *kicks flashback* *wonders if you can kick a flashback*  
Llinos: Why would you want to give up flashbacks?  
  
Dylan: It's just so gripping.  
Llinos: Oh we love to hear about people being gripped! (PS like the Welsh name).  
  
Boromira: I love the way you characterize Boromir!  
Llinos: Hope you liked him this chapter – Kooks did half and I did the other – we trust he didn't come out schizophrenic.   
Kookaburra: Hurrah for Boz lovers! IMO, other than the hobbits he's the coolest (and hottest!) character.  
  
Blue Jedi Hobbit 009: I wish I could get over my WB Syndrome  
Llinos: Hey come join our new Yahoo group – perhaps we can help.  
  
Dominique Brandybuck : I'm far worse than Icicle!  
Llinos: My goodness, would you like your head patted and to go walkies with Gimli?  
  
Tasha (mercurynat@aol.com): Pip losing ALL his memories  
Llinos: Don't worry Tash – YOUR Pip's quite safe '-) Quick Note: Tasha plays Pip in a slash game called Lords of the Slashed. Kookaburra plays Sam and I play an Uruk called Nagash – I know, typecast again! Go and take a look – email Kooks or me for the link if you need it.  
Kookaburra: Obviously what Llinos needs to do is stop writing orcs so well- then she wouldn't have to worry about being typecast. :-)  
  
Coriandra: I still watch for it every day.  
Llinos: Oh – now you make me feel guilty for not updating sooner – how 'bout you Kooks?  
Kookaburra: I feel very guilty now. Especially since I have no excuse other than laziness for not updating.  
  
Kalima: do you want to see me cry?!?  
Llinos: No! No! No! – Well yes – but only in a good way you understand.  
  
KS-fan: Don't have Pippin's memory wiped clean, just for reality's sake.  
Llinos: Well it's all still in the plot I'm afraid. But nice analysis of the situation. Thanks  
  
Claudia: I was out of town for awhile,  
Llinos: Anywhere nice?  
Claudia: It seems very real that Frodo would be jealous  
Llinos: But I wonder if he realises the depth of what it is the Ring makes him feel and how much is just him. I suspect the former. Views? Discuss?  
  
Zebra Wallpaper: Wow. I just spent hours, and I mean literally hours, reading this story from chapter one through thirty-four.  
Llinos: Welcome aboard!  
Kookaburra: I hope you didn't suffer eye damage- staring at a screen for that long CAN'T be healthy!  
Zebra Wallpaper: Okay, I just realized how ridiculously long this review is  
Llinos: Never, ever apologise for long reviews   
Kookaburra: We are seeking long reviews...all our thought is bent on it!  
  
Dnise Ivyblaze: Please don't leave the story behind after 34 chapters. I MUST see the end of this story!  
Llinos: Oh don't worry, Kooks and I want to see it too!  
  
august wynd: hate the thought of people losing memory-it just bothers me  
Llinos: Do you think? But I'm not sure anyone would want to keep those memories!  
Kookaburra: *evil chuckle* I'm eeeevil! But you must trust us here at EGFBFF (Evil Geniuses for Better Fan Fiction) that we know what we're doing with the plot.  
  
LilyBaggins: In answer to Llinos, yes, Kookaburra has a deal with me--she writes in Frodo-angst  
Llinos: Poor Frodo – what'd he do to warrant this – oh yes – fluttered long eyelashes and sported big blue eyes – deserves everything he gets! :-).  
Kookaburra: And yes, Lily, once MR is done I'll turn my thoughts to your story. It'll take some doing as it's going to be a whodunnit mystery, but I'll do my best!  
  
Shirebound: Gosh, too bad Galadriel can't just "wipe" Pip's memory of the past week (instead of the past 28 years).  
Llinos: Damn! Why didn't we think of that earlier Kooks? Then again it would end all the suffering and that's no fun.  
Kookaburra: *pouts* no fun at all!  
  
lilvior: i don't normally read such long fics  
Llinos: Well it's not so bad once you start – just take one chapter at a time. Now you've got the habit (or is that hobbit?) perhaps you should try Recaptured, a scary 106 chapters long and rising! Arrrrgghhh! Off to lie down in darkened room. 


	36. Told

Chapter 36 - Told 

Moria's Revenge  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta: Marigold  
  


Merry felt as though someone had given him a blow to the stomach. He grabbed the wine glass from Pippin while at the same time pulling his cousin into a bone-crushing embrace.

"Please don't say such things, Pip, please, everything's going to be all right soon, you'll feel better, I promise..." Merry continued to whisper encouragements into Pippin's ear, while carefully setting the wineglass onto the end table.

"No, Merry." Pippin's voice was quiet, but flat and toneless, and he did not return Merry's hug. "I don't think it'll ever be better, Merry." Pippin squirmed a little as Merry hugged him tighter, and grabbed the wine glass again, lifting it to his lips with both hands and draining it in one long gulp.

"Easy, easy, there, Pippin." Aragorn grabbed Pippin's hand to keep his young charge from holding out his glass to Boromir for more wine. "You're going to get tipsy if you keep that up!"

Pippin scowled and struggled a little against the ranger's grip. "But that's what I want!" he exclaimed. "I want to make it not hurt so much... I want it to go away!" Pippin added in a whisper.

Merry sighed sadly and pulled his sad cousin in for another squeeze. "Hush, Pip, I want to make it go away too, but I don't think getting drunk is the best thing for you right now."

"Anything's better than remembering, Merry!" Pippin put his hands up to his face in anguish. "Anything but... remembering them touching me..." His voice caught, and he started to cry once more, deep bone wracking sobs shaking his tiny body. "No, no, no..."

Aragorn gave the two elven healers a significant look, and they picked up on the cue and quietly left, leaving the two hobbits alone in the room with Aragorn and Boromir. Aragorn gently stroked Pippin's hair as Merry held him close. "Pippin," he tried. Pippin's only response was to bury his face tighter into his cousin's shoulder. Aragorn let him carry on, knowing that he would have to stop crying eventually. He moved next to Boromir for a moment and they both waited patiently.

Before Pippin had managed to cry himself out, Legolas and Gimli arrived with Icicle in tow. The warg immediately jumped up on the bed and pawed at Pippin and Merry until they unlocked their embrace and let her lie between them. Pippin even gave a small smile as the warg licked his face to clean the salty tears away.

Pippin sniffed as Icicle settled down with her paw firmly on his wrist as she turned her attention to cleaning his arm thoroughly. "Oh Icy, stop that!" Pip unexpectedly pulled away from the warg and rubbed at his skin where her tongue had been. Icicle whined a little and resolutely turned her attention to Merry for the time being, licking him instead.

"I'd forgotten her, hadn't I?" Pip looked up through his tears and reached a conciliatory hand out to the white coat, "Umumum, I didn't remember her for a while and now… now…"

"What Pip?" Aragorn prompted. He could tell that the hobbit's emotions were in turmoil and he needed to express them.

"Now she just brings it all back." Pip pulled his hand back from Icicle again. "She was the one that saved me though. I would have died if not for Umumum. Yet when I look at her or touch her all I can think of is being back in the… hands… in the…" Pippin trailed off. It seemed too soon to face up to what had happened – perhaps he never could.

"Pippin there is another way." Legolas came forward and sat on the bed and took the hobbit's hands in his. The elf glanced around at the others to see if he should explain the offer made by the Lady. Aragorn and Merry had both nodded and Boromir and Gimli did not protest. He carried on. "The Lady Galadriel has said that it is possible for her to take your memories away, as she did just now, for these past few hours, only then it would be forever."

Pip's face lit up with hope and he turned to Merry in obvious excitement. "That would be wonderful! It would be as if it had never happened!"

"But wait, there is more." Aragorn came and put his hand on Legolas' shoulder. "You would lose _all your memories, not just those of the orcs, but everything from the day you were born." Aragorn took in a deep breath that sounded more like a sigh, "You would not even remember how to walk or talk and would be as an infant once more."_

"Oh but that would be…" Pippin broke off once more, furrowing his brow as he tried to take in the implications of what Strider had just told him.

"But… but who would… I mean," Pippin shook his head in bewilderment, "who would even look after me? It's as if I…" He looked up at Aragorn and Legolas, their faces filled with concern. "Who would be my Mamma?"

In spite of the gravity of the situation, both Aragorn and Boromir felt a small smile twitch at the corner of their mouths. Merry stroked Pippin's back gently and whispered in his ear, "why I would of course Pip."

Legolas' sharp ears had deciphered the whisper and he too smiled, still holding Pippin's hands, "we all would little one. You would have many Mammas."

"But would I have to grow up all over again?" Pippin asked solemnly, "That would take so long and you all have to leave to complete the Quest when Frodo is better. You cannot wait for me."

"I would wait for you." Merry whispered again. "Even if it took forever and then a bit longer."

"Merry." Aragorn looked at him sternly. "Do not make promises you may not be able to keep." Merry looked sharply up at the ranger, query on his puzzled face. It was then Aragorn suddenly realized that, with all that had happened recently, no one had actually discussed with Merry their provisional decision that, should Frodo not recover in time, he would be asked to complete the Quest as Ringbearer with Sam as his companion. "It's just that you may have other responsibilities that are greater." He added quickly.

Merry frowned at this suggestion but realized that Strider obviously did not want to discuss that now. He turned his attention back to Pippin. "I'd make sure you were well cared for, whatever happens Pip, I promise."

"It would not take as long as you might think Pippin," Legolas explained. "You could re-learn most of what you needed to know quite quickly. Although it would take longer to tell you all the good things that had happened in your life, but at least you would not recall the bad things."

"But I would forget everything?" Pippin was trying to imagine what that would feel like. "All I would know would be what you told me?"

"Yes," Aragorn agreed. "Pippin it is not something to undertake lightly. All of our memories, both good and bad, are what makes us who we are."

"I know," Pippin looked sadly down at his empty wine glass still clutched in his small hand, "but at the moment I don't care much for who I am."

"But what of those who care for you?" Gimli asked unexpectedly. Pippin looked at the dwarf in surprise, his face a question. "Would you have yourself forget all the love and affection others have for you? That is a truly wonderful thing to own and if you throw away your memories you will have no recall of how much you have been and are loved."

"I don't know." Pippin looked in bewilderment from one to the other. Boromir smiled encouragingly at him and Gimli nodded as if in agreement. Haldir was standing quietly next to Boromir, a sympathetic smile on his face. Aragorn, his eyes fixed steadfastly on the two hobbits, sat on the bed beside Legolas, who was still holding Pippin's hands and Merry, dear Merry, was nestled up to him, lying half over Umumum, and stroking his hair. "I- I wouldn't want to forget any of you, although forgetting about Moria would be so much better – I could start again as if nothing had happened. But if I forgot Frodo and Sam and… and…" Pippin could not bring himself to say it, but everyone knew he meant Merry.

"I know little one," Aragorn reached out and touched Pippin lightly on the forehead. "I think he will always be here, no matter what happens."

"But I'd forget him!" Pippin cried out in sudden anguish, making Merry jump. He threw himself into Merry's arms, jarring his cousin's sprained wrist slightly. Merry made no complaint but just hugged Pippin closely. "I don't want to forget you Merry!"

"But Pip," Merry pulled him back a little so he could see his face, "I'd remind you of everything and you could be my old Pip again, happy and singing, not afraid or crying any more."

"Then how do I decide?" Pippin turned back to the others, "I don't know how I'm supposed to choose!"

Legolas released the little hands and moved to the side so that Aragorn could sit in front of Pippin now and the ranger took Pippin gently by the shoulders and looked steadfastly into his eyes. "The Lady Galadriel has told us how you must chose." Pippin looked hopeful at the mention of the Lady's name. "She believes you must recount all that happened to you, that you would rather forget, and once you have remembered it all, only then will you be able to decide if you can live with those memories."

"But that would be like reliving the whole thing." Pippin looked at Aragorn in dismay, "How can I do that – I'm not sure I do remember it all."

"You won't be reliving it, Pippin," Aragorn assured him, "we shall be here with you this time, helping and protecting you. Letting you see it was not your fault, that you were the strong one because you survived."

"Really?" Pippin asked tentatively. As he looked at the steady gaze of the ranger and glanced up at the other encouraging faces around him and felt Merry's comforting hand on his back, he almost believed he could do it. "Do you think that?"

"Yes of course, Pippin." Aragorn smiled now, "and if it takes me to tell you every step of the way that it was not your fault and explain to you why it was not your fault – then that's what I'll do. If after that you still cannot live with what happened, then I think you must choose to forget everything – but Pippin…"

"Yes Strider?" The hobbit looked hopefully into the kind eyes.

"I think you will be equal to remembering everything – if you survived the orcs, you can survive the memory and prove you are stronger than all of them."

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Frodo started awake – a commotion on the other side of the door to the main chamber had woken him. He immediately started to struggle upright, but was restrained by a sturdy, familiar, sun-browned hand on his shoulder.

"Now, Mr Frodo, don't be trying that again." Sam leaned over Frodo, looking into his master's face with concern, searching for any new sign of pain. Frodo frowned, and looked away. Being confined to a bed had heightened his sensitivity towards being fussed over, and right now Sam's concern, though Frodo knew it was well meant, grated on his nerves. Why did everyone insist on treating him as if he were an invalid? 'Because you are an invalid.' the infuriatingly logical part of his mind answered. Frodo was about to answer with a sharp retort to Sam, but caught himself in time, recognising the prodding to push Sam away as coming from the Ring. The Ring. It was trying to get him to push the others farther and farther away – so he, Frodo, would have nothing to depend on but It.

Jerking himself away from his gloomy woolgathering, Frodo looked back up at Sam and inquired, "What do you suppose they're doing out there?"

Sam smiled down at him, pleased that his master was taking some notice of the outside world. "I expect that it's just Mr Merry, Master Pippin, and the others coming back from their dinner." Sam then gave Frodo a teasing wink. "I hope you didn't think that we cooked all this good food just for you, Master!"

Frodo actually smiled at that last. The shadow that had welled up in his mind was now dissipating. How could he have ever been angry with his dear Samwise? He reached for Sam's hand with his good arm, and clasped it. "Thank you, Sam."

Looking rather surprised, Sam asked, "What for, Mr Frodo?" Frodo opened his mouth to reply, but just then the door swung open, and Silael walked in.

"Well, young Frodo, I see you are awake. Do you feel rested after your nap?"

"Yes, a bit." Frodo answered. In truth, he felt weary enough to sleep for a week, but his many hurts kept him from feeling comfortable. Also Frodo realised, he wanted to move. Any change of position at this point would have been better than continuing to lie on his back, which put pressure on the glass cuts. As Silael came over to the bedside and began to inspect how the new bandages were holding, Frodo winced and squirmed the tiniest bit. Now that he had thought about moving, he could not stop.

"Are you uncomfortable, Frodo?" Silael seemed to have seen the problem at once.

Frodo was loath to complain after everything the kind elves had done for him, but it was pointless now to deny his discomfort. "My back is rather sore, and I'm feeling rather stiff from lying like this all the time."

"Well, that's easily solved. In fact, I came in to see if you wanted to be turned over for sleep. I will find Deilen, and we will move you so you do not strain your shoulder." With that, the senior healer glided quietly out of the room.

"You should have told me you were uncomfortable, Mr Frodo," said a slightly hurt Sam. "I'd have called them in right quick!"

Frodo sighed. It must be hard on Sam, he realised, to see his master hurt and not be able to help directly. "Don't worry about it Sam." Frodo said in vain, for he knew Sam would worry about it, no matter what Frodo said. "I hadn't even thought about it until now. However, if you do want to do something for me, could you give me a little more wine? I do not think my hurts will let me sleep soundly if do not have some spirits to chase them away."

Sam beamed, pleased that Frodo had asked something of him that he could deliver. "Of course, Mr Frodo, right away, sir!" After he had filled the glass a quarter full, Sam carefully walked back across the counterpane, and settled beside Frodo to help his master drink. At first Frodo felt a flash of annoyance again at the coming 'babying' as he called it to himself, but that soon gave way to a sense of security as Sam settled Frodo on his strong shoulder and carefully tilted the glass to Frodo's lips. It was good to have friends who babied one once in a while, Frodo decided.

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"Where shall I begin?" Pippin looked anxiously around him. Aragorn had lifted Pippin off the bed and sat him on a heap of pillows on the floor, with Merry and Icicle snuggled up next to him. The others sat on the floor around the hobbits, the two men, the two elves and the dwarf were determined to help Pippin and Merry through this ordeal and, as Aragorn had pointed out, all sitting on the floor was a far less ominous and threatening position for the little one.

"Begin with a little more wine." Boromir smiled and handed Pippin a half-filled goblet, "it will help you to relax."

Aragorn nodded that it was all right, "just sip it Pippin," he advised. "Then start at the time when you were first lost."

Pippin clutched the goblet, but made no attempt to drink. He gulped a little and began. "I was walking along at the back and I couldn't think of anything except that I had killed Gandalf." He hiccupped back a sigh and carried on before the others could interrupt him. "It was all I knew, because I had dropped the stone in the well and made a noise. I felt so, so tired and then I looked up and realized I was going very slowly, I couldn't see anyone in front of me any more and then I panicked. I remember my heart beating so fast I could hear it in my throat. I ran and ran but I couldn't find you. I wanted to shout but I started to hear other noises and I was too scared and then something, a great black shape, came at me out of the bushes and then everything went black."

"Poor Pip!" Merry already had tears of contrition running down both cheeks. "I should have been watching you, I should have waited for you or seen you weren't keeping up…"

"All right Merry," Boromir reached out and took Merry's little hand in his large one and squeezed it gently. "We all should have. I was leading the party at that time – I should have noticed Pip missing sooner."

"What happened when you woke up Pip?" Aragorn prompted gently. "Can you tell us?"

"Mm…" Pippin sniffed a little and drew a breath still gazing into his untouched wine. "Next thing I remembered was coming to and I couldn't move. I tried to do what Boromir told us and not show I was awake until I knew what was happening, I knew there were lots of them and that I was tied up. But they just kicked me till I opened my eyes. Then I saw them and I was really scared."

"So for how long do you think you managed to keep your eyes shut?" Boromir asked, surprising Pippin into looking sharply up at him.

"I- I don't know." Pippin considered the question. "About 5 minutes perhaps, it seemed like longer."

"That was very good Pippin." Boromir looked the hobbit squarely in the eye. "I don't know if any of us could have lasted so long, but you did the right thing and you were then more prepared for what was happening. You obviously learnt your soldiering lessons well."

This was the last reaction Pippin was expecting. "But I couldn't do anything. I got myself captured and it was my fault."

"No! Pippin you must not say that." Aragorn told him for the hundredth time. He hardly knew how to ever make the hobbit believe him. "It was not your fault and as Boromir said, you did the right thing in giving yourself some time."

"I did?" Pippin actually perked up a little at their praise. "After that there was nothing I could do and they knew that."

"Yes they did." Gimli put in. "But not fighting back young Pip, then that was the right thing. Gimli the dwarf would not have survived the experience. My rage would have got the better of me and that would have been wrong."

"It would?" Pippin looked at the dwarf, his eyes wide with surprise. "I knew I couldn't fight them though. I was too little and there were too many of them and I was tied up."

"But no more could I have fought with them under those circumstances, Pippin." Aragorn smiled at Pippin's obvious belief that the others would have made a better show. "Nor Boromir nor Legolas nor any of us. You did the right thing."

"Oh." Pippin looked at the expressions on their faces. No one seemed to be laughing at him or even rebuking him for not fighting harder. They were praising him. Feeling more confident, he carried on. "After they kicked me a lot, they said things to scare me and then they cut the ropes a bit and stood me up. One of them made me drink something horrible, I nearly choked, but he just poured it down my throat."

"That would be orc whiskey I expect." Gimli had encountered the liquor before. "They use that to keep you conscious and aware. It is an evil device to make their victims suffer more."

Merry gave Pippin an encouraging hug and he continued. "Then they blindfolded my eyes and pushed and pulled me around. I fell over and they just kept pulling me up and pushing me down again and then they kicked me so hard I flew through the air." Pippin's lower lip trembled and large tears ran down his cheeks now, matching those that still ran down Merry's face. Pippin rubbed his eyes with the back of his sleeve until Boromir handed him a handkerchief. He blew his nose and continued. "Then they said I had to beg them to leave me be and that if I didn't beg hard enough it would be my own fault whatever happened."

"Yes Pip," Legolas reached out a comforting hand to the distressed hobbit. "There are two different kinds of cruelty. They were tormenting you mentally as well as physically, trying to make you think you had control over what was happening. That in some way it was your own fault and you deserved it."

"Which of course you did not." Haldir added softly.

Pippin tried to catch his breath from crying, "B-but I thought I did, because I didn't beg enough, so it was my own fault."

"They would not have released you, no matter what you had said or done." Haldir felt very moved at the innocence of the little perian, "There was nothing you could have done to change that, it was not of your making and you did not deserve anything that those foul creatures did to you."

Pippin finally took a small sip of his wine and carried on. "After that they argued a bit, I think about me and then they tried to get my scarf – Merry's scarf," Pippin reached out for the re-knitted garment that was on the bed and Boromir fetched it and gave it to him, watching with a smile as the hobbit hugged it to his face. "But I didn't let go and they couldn't get it away."

"Oh my brave Pip!" Merry hugged him, almost spilling Pippin's wine and wincing slightly as he knocked his damaged wrist once more. "You kept it the whole time, I know because you still had it when we found you."

"Sometimes they used it to tie me with, Merry," Pippin nuzzled his face into the scarf, "but I had to keep hold of it – it would have been like letting you go if I'd lost it."

"That was very courageous of you Pippin." Boromir pointed out, "and it probably helped you to survive – did you know that?"

"No," Pip looked at the scarf, which was now draped over his legs. "I just knew I wanted it. How did it help me survive?"

"It was symbolic." Legolas rubbed the knitted garment lightly between his fingers. "It was symbolic of hope and gave you something of your own to cling to."

"Also it was the one act of rebellion that you could manage," Aragorn added, "and you stuck resolutely to that – that was important too."

"See Pip, you're much braver than you think, aren't you?" Merry gave him a little kiss on the cheek.

"Am I?" Pippin seemed totally bemused by all the compliments. "I didn't feel very brave."

"I know little one, but you are," Legolas said encouragingly. "You're even being brave now in telling us about it."

"Well I don't know if I can stay that brave." Pippin frowned as he remembered the next part. "They tied me on a rock and tore my shirt and waistcoat off. Then… then they used a whip. It was the most terrible pain I had ever felt up until then. I think I passed out when it hurt so much I couldn't think any more."

"It's best not to fight the pain, when it becomes unbearable." Aragorn said gently. "Go on Pip, you're doing well."

"I woke up when they threw cold water on me." Pippin shivered a little at the memory. "I was hurting so much and I was so ashamed and frightened, I just wanted to stay in the blackness, but they pulled the blindfold off me and I could see them again and they were shouting at me and hitting and kicking me, then there was a fight. One of the orcs, I think he was the leader, said they couldn't just do what they wanted, so they killed him and that's when it got really bad."

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Some time after the glass was empty, Silael returned with Deilen, the elder elf carrying a small earthenware jar. He set it on the nightstand next to the empty food tray while Deilen checked Frodo's pulse and temperature once more, making small talk with Sam. Frodo simply drowsed against Sam, the wine finally doing its job and making him woozy and light-headed. He only opened his eyes and blearily looked around when Sam gently undid his used nightshirt, and Silael and Deilen carefully lifted him and laid him on his stomach. When he was settled, Silael gently pulled back the covers to Frodo's hips and inspected the bandages swathing the Ringbearer's back, then began to carefully peel them away.

The act of removing the bandages also removed Frodo's muzziness.

"Ah!" he cried out in response to a bandage taking a half healed scab with it.

"Sh, sh, there, Mr Frodo, it'll be over soon..." Frodo's head was turned in such a way that he could not see Sam, hovering over him anxiously, but soon a comforting hand began to run through his dark curls reassuringly.

Silael noticed Samwise's distress at not being able to do anything to help his master, and said to Deilen, "Perhaps you could show Samwise how to apply the ointment – that way we can go and see to our other patients." Deilen nodded, and walked around to the side of the bed Sam was sitting on.

Taking a good portion of the soothing oil from the jar with his fingers, Deilen gently daubed it on one of the cuts on Frodo's back. Frodo let out a hiss of pain at the contact, but then just as quickly stopped.

"It – it just stopped hurting!" He exclaimed.

"Good." Answered Deilen. "That means I have made it correctly."

By this time Silael had finished his examination, and pronounced Frodo well on the way to recovery, and said that with the proper care, it was unlikely that any of the cuts would scar.

As the elves made to leave, Samwise called from beside Frodo, where he was still working the medication into the wounds tenderly. "Wait, sir, Mr Silael, I won't be able to get his shirt back on without you here!"

"Do not worry, Sam. It is warm enough that Frodo will be comfortable, and I have left an extra quilt at the foot of the bed if your master needs it." With that, the two elves ghosted out of the room, the quietly closing door being the only clue that they had been in the room moments before.

"Don't worry about it Sam," Frodo mumbled sleepily. "Just don't stop what you're doing...feels so nice..." The Ringbearer was relaxing again, with Sam's strong hands rubbing out the pain in his back with that wonderful oil.

Sam smiled, and continued kneading the taut muscles in Frodo's back after he was finished with the wounds, working out the tense knots that had woven themselves into his master's shoulder.

"Mmm...Sam..." Frodo mumbled into the soft pillow, "you don't really have to...ah... do this...mmm..."

Sam grunted as he worked at a particularly tense spot under Frodo's shoulder blade, then smiled as the muscle released, quivering as it did so. "I'd say your back is telling me something quite different Mr Frodo," he replied.

Frodo sighed and said nothing. He would never been able to convince Sam that his job as gardener did not include waiting on his employer hand and foot.

"Y'know, Shham..." Frodo's voice was beginning to slur from the combination of wine and relaxation, "When we get back to...mmm... the Shire... I'm going to have to increase your wages – ahh!"

Sam's strong hands did not pause in their rhythmic massaging, even though Sam himself was dumbfounded. "Why, whatever for, Mr Frodo?" He said as he moved his hands up to the nape of Frodo's neck, working deep in the muscles at the join between Frodo's skull and spine.

"Becaussh – mmmphhf!" Frodo's reply was muffled by the fact that Sam was working so deep, his head was rolling back and forth on the pillow with the force of Sam's rubbing. He waited until Sam moved back to his shoulder. "Because you're no longer jussht doing my bit of garden, Sam – you're my companion and the labour is worth its wages."

Mulling what his master was saying over in his mind, Sam started working his way slowly down Frodo's spine. "But Mr Frodo, I'm not exactly sure I'd _want_ to be paid for that, if you follow me."

Frodo did not, but only had the energy to reply with a, "Hhmphf."

"See, Mr Frodo, you're..." now Sam was blushing – he had never really got over the fact that as a member of the serving class, he should not really be Frodo's friend, "...you're very dear to me, Master, and I don't think I could put a price on our friendship."

"Oh, oh Sam..." Frodo was strangely moved by Sam's statement, which did not escape his notice. Sam knew that his master tended to get rather maudlin when in his cups, and so decided that he'd better make his point and get Mr Frodo off to sleep right quick.

Sam now carefully worked at the muscles at the base of Frodo's spine, where the backbone no longer bent. Back when they were in the Shire, if his master was having any trouble sleeping, a good working over of those muscles would make him drift off immediately.

"And forgive me for speaking so plain, sir, as I know it's not my place, but it seems to me that paying me as your gardener is one thing… " Sam screwed up his courage and his face to say what he wanted and prepared to start work on Frodo's back just so that his master would fall asleep as soon as Sam said what he wanted to say, "…but when I rub your back and cook your dinner and make sure you're all right or just spend time talking and being with you, if you paid for that… well what I mean is, I don't want paying for being your friend – I love you Mr Frodo and that's not something you pay for."

"Sam!" was the only exclamation Frodo had time to utter before the effects of the wine combined with the comfort of his servant's hands upon his back, and he fell into the abyss of sleep.

Sighing, Sam carefully arranged Frodo's good arm into a position he judged to be more comfortable, fluffed the pillows under Frodo's head, and pulled the thick covers over Frodo's body, and tucked him in securely. He then padded to the foot of the bed and gathered up the extra quilt Silael had left them, brought it back, and laid that over his master and himself as well. He smoothed Frodo's uncombed dark curls away from the pale forehead, checking his master's temperature. Then, satisfied that all was well, Sam laid down next to Frodo, one hand over his master's, and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Mr Frodo – I do love you – really I do."

********************************************************************************************************************************************

"I don't think I can say the next part." Pippin looked down at his sock covered feet and then took a gulp of the wine. "I can't even think about it, let alone say it."

"All right, my Pip." Merry patted his hand gently, "if you can't say it, then it can't be helped. But you were managing so well and everything you've said so far – well I couldn't have handled it any better. You did nothing wrong."

"Pippin, even if you can't bear to think about it, does it sometimes come into your head anyway?" Aragorn lifted the hobbit's chin up so that he was looking into his eyes. "Be honest now."

"Y-yes, it does," Pippin admitted, "all the time really. But I just shake my head and make it go away."

"And does it?" Boromir asked quietly.

"No." Pippin dropped his head back down as Aragorn withdrew his hand. "It won't go away and I just get really, really…" Pippin began to draw in huge breaths as the thoughts ran through his head once more.

"Well that's what we're here for," Aragorn told him. "It's only by talking about it that you will ever be able to be free of those memories – by sharing them. Do you see?"

Pippin nodded slightly, but did not look convinced. "You don't know how terrible it was, Strider, none of you do. I can't tell you because you'd be too disgusted with me."

"No Pippin – not with you!" Merry cried out in frustration. "With them! Not you!"

"Pippin, my dear little hobbit." Aragorn leaned over again and took his hand in his. "Who do you think has tended your hurts all this time?"

"Why you of course." Pippin looked up at the ranger suddenly, wondering why he was asking such an obvious question.

"And do you not think that I couldn't guess much of what was done to you?" Aragorn asked gently, his head on one side.

"Oh yes, I suppose so," Pippin sighed a little breath. "I suppose you all know."

"Pippin, it wasn't your fault." Boromir added to Aragorn's argument. "Also I have seen terrible things meted out to prisoners of war in my time. It is not fair or just, but it happens and their comrades do not blame them for their suffering."

"It was just that…" Pippin gulped the last of the wine down and kept his eyes firmly on the empty goblet. "what they did to me – I had never before – at all – you know."

"Oh you poor thing." Legolas uttered in sympathy. "You were pure, and they… but Pippin, listen, you are still pure, truly! You are pure in heart and no one can take that from you." 

"Legolas speaks wisely and the truth." Haldir agreed. "Your heart is truly pure, no matter what foul thing touched your body."

"But first they told me to beg," Pippin looked up and around as if he had a guilty secret. "and I did, I was a coward and afraid. I begged and begged them to let me go. On my knees I pleaded with them, but I couldn't get it right."

"But you know now that they never would have let you go," Gimli said quietly, "It would have made no difference what you had said, they were merely tormenting you, before they laid hands on you, to make you feel responsible."

"They did touch me – so much." Pippin's voice had sunk to almost a whisper. "They took all my clothes then and held me up by the rope round my wrists and then threw me into the crowd and all the orcs were mauling me at once and pawing at me, it was so terrible."

All the listeners were silent, save Merry who gave one small sob and squeezed Pippin a little tighter. He began to realize why his baby cousin had been so afraid of anyone touching him.

"Then they put me on the rock and the first one… he… he…" Pippin stopped, his face buried in his hands and sobs taking the place of words.

"Take your time Pip," Merry said in a calm tone that he did not feel. "You cry as much as you need to."

"Oh Merry, he took me like the ram does with the sheep!" Pippin finally wailed the awful truth. "Up until then, I didn't even know males could do that to males."

Pippin drew an even deeper breath and shuddered as the whole scene began to replay in his memory – the humiliation, the pain, everything. His shaking grew more severe as he remembered the shameful names the orcs had called him and the dreadful things they had done – things he had not even known of before. Well, Boromir had said that if he spoke of the bad things, they would become less painful, so that was what he must do.

"Then – then they – " Pippin had to stop to try and get his voice under control. "Th-they called m-me their -their..." No! He could not say it- no matter how much the others cared for him, the humiliation was too great and if they knew what the orcs had shouted at him while they rode him.

"It doesn't matter Pip, my love." Merry whispered. "Whatever it was I still love you and I always will."

Pippin summoned up his courage again at these words. "They c-called me their… pony and horsey and then they took turns one after the other – it hurt so much! But the shame hurt far, far more than anything. Even though I thought my rear was on fire, I was really crying because I was so ashamed."

"But Pip," Boromir said, a hint of a lurch in his usually stalwart voice, "You did nothing to feel ashamed of – it was done to you, not by you or with your consent."

"But there were so many of them," Pippin was sobbing again now, "I thought it would never stop and I just wanted to die, but I couldn't." He drew a deep breath as Merry stroked his hair and Aragorn patted his hand gently. "Then when it stopped I thought my pleas had finally been answered, but they had not – it just got worse still."

"Pip? My love, my poor baby." Merry was crying non-stop as well, "you didn't deserve any of that – but you didn't deserve to die either."

"I would rather have died, than what they did next." Pippin breathed. "But I don't think I can tell you Merry or anyone. It's too disgusting and foul!"

"Pippin, you are very young," Aragorn stroked his trembling hand, "you should not have had to learn about these things in such a terrible way, but I think I can guess what happened next and the only truly disgusting part was that it was forced on you by those foul creatures."

"Strider, you couldn't know what they did – could you?" Pippin rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and Boromir patiently offered a large handkerchief to him. "It's not even something the ram would do!"

"They forced themselves into your mouth?" Aragorn said very quietly. "Pippin it's just another kind of rape and it must have been terrifying for you, little one."

"Yes, I-I…" Pippin trailed off peeping through his fingers with horror into Merry's face. "Merry, if you never want to kiss me again, I will understand – really I will."

"And what if it had been me, Pip?" Merry pulled Pippin's hands away from his face and placed a small kiss on his sad lips, "would you never want to kiss me again?"

"Of course I would!" Pippin suddenly realised that what his cousin had said was true. "Oh yes Merry of course, I would always want to kiss you!"

The two elves exchanged a small smile at the hobbits' informality in kissing each other so readily. Legolas had explained to Haldir earlier, when he had asked if Merry and Pippin or Frodo and Sam were lovers, that hobbits were very demonstrative and tactile, even between grown males, and that kissing did not necessarily signify anything except their deep affection for each other.

"Here Pippin," Boromir replaced the hankie the hobbit was clutching with a refilled goblet of wine, "take a little rest now. Have a few sips of wine and take a few deep breaths."

"Boromir is right," Gimli agreed. "You are coping with it all very well young one and you have told the worst now."

Pippin gulped a little too desperately at the strong red wine. "No Gimli, I haven't. I know it seems like that," Pippin sniffed a deep sigh and pulled a little way away from Merry as if he suddenly felt defiled again. "Once they took me inside the mines it really got much worse." He looked down at his sock covered feet once more, afraid to meet the eyes of his friends. "Much, much worse. Worse than anything any of you could imagine!"

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TBC

A/N Hi Llinos here in the Chair:-

Sorry this has been so long a'coming :-(. My excuse is that I got very tied up with writing a poem for Baylor's story and I've neglected Recaptured as well – shame on me! But on the other hand I hope you've all been reading Baylor's wonderful Fate and the High King's Falcon and, if you have, I'm sure you'll stick around for chapter 26, which is where the song puts in its appearance. If you haven't – then what are you waiting for?

In this chapter, after a brief skirmish I managed to bully Kooks into letting me do most of the Pippin bits and she did virtually all of Frodo and Sam. I'm so mean but she'll probably get her revenge on me next time, although she does seem to be getting more and more enthusiastic about writing F&S – warming up for her next fic no doubt!

Heya- this is Kookaburra- Don't let Llinos fool you, it was really me being sneaky and loading most of the chapter on her able shoulders, 'cause my writing muse had up and left. I really have no handy excuse except for the fact that I'm really lazy, and that the RPG Llinos and I participate in is really picking up. ALSO- I HAVE MY OWN WEBSITE! Yes, folks- the majority of this past month has been spent teaching myself html and coding 35 chapters of MR! So, if'n y'all want to see it, come stop by at:  
_[NB: FOR SOME REASON FF.NET STRIPS OUT URL'S – SO I HAVE POSTED THESE WITH * INSTEAD OF SLASHES – WHEN PASTING THE URL's PLEASE REPLACE ALL ASTERIKS WITH SLASHES – THANKS]_

http:**www.geocities.com*barngoddess110   
I have an extensive links section, several original stories, and several humorous works.   
Then there is my live journal at  
http:**www.livejournal.com*users*paulaberr*

In addition, Emma has been busy making pictures for lots of stories – including Moria's Revenge. These are absolutely super and you can view them on Kooks website – here:

http:**www.geocities.com*barngoddess110*gallery_main.html

Okay, I think that's everything – now on to the reader's comments and authors' smart alec replies, otherwise known as: 

Q & A

Assena: as long as it ends good, I'll read it!  
Llinos: Aha – but if it doesn't it'll be too late to unread it! Seriously – don't worry, we plan to put all the soldiers back in the box when we've finished playing – well I do anyhow – can't speak for Kooks!  
Kookaburra: I generally do too – at least they're physically okay, but they might have some minor psychological damage. :-)

Seal: but I'm just going to curl up in a little ball in the corner if sweet little Pippin doesn't eventually come out of this ok  
Llinos: Well then you won't be able to review the final chapter :-( - so we'll have to see what we can do.

Cranberry Ramen: I would just like to say, right off the bat that this story is quite possibly one of the best I've read.  
Llinos: Why thank you! May I just say that your name is one of the best I've ever read – I think it's some kind of fruit flavoured noodle – is that right? 

Kookabrra:Well, I know top ramen is a salty noodle stew.  
Cranberry Ramen: Pippin is my favorite LOTR character I love the plot, the little episodes the characterization, and the details.  
Llinos: Pippin is my second fave character – Merry is my No.1. Glad you like the details – I think the more you add, the more real it seems.  
Kookaburra: I generally just say that "Mippin" is my fave. character- they're just like salt and pepper- can't have one without the other!

Jukia: You are a very good writer you should write more stories.  
Llinos: Oh there are more – you could try Recaptured by me.

Boromira: it's pretty amazing that two different people are writing the story but the transition is seamless.  
Llinos: I know – it amazes us too!

:) : I'm kind of on the shy side when reviewing. This is such a depressing story! But I'm hooked.  
Llinos: Oh dear! You're shy and we've depressed and hooked you! Now I feel really bad!

Blue Jedi Hobbit: Looks like plenty more juicy story is coming up.  
Llinos: To quote Al Jolsson "You ain't seen nothin' yet!" Well you have – but it's not over yet, I should say.

Lily Baggins: You people are evil. :) I love you for being so evil.  
Llinos: See we all have our redeeming features.  
Kookaburra: *wicked cackle* Thank you – feedback like this makes our work here at EGFBFF (Evil Geniuses for Better Fan Fiction) feel so much more worthwhile.

QTPie: It will be so very sad if he has his memory erased, oh I can't even imagine.  
Llinos: No – but unfortunately Kooks and I can. evil chortle So it might happen – then again – it might not!

Hel: Maybe I start reading Recaptured if it takes too long. But it is so long  
Llinos: Now then you are tempting fate! If we don't update this fiction you will start to read Recaptured – well I'd like you to read Recaptured – soooo…   
Seriously, don't be put off by the length – it is not too complicated (I don't think) and the boys have a very tricky time, since Merry can't see and Pippin can't hear or speak and all sorts of scary things happen to them. So if you like hobbit angst you should really enjoy it.

The Lauderdale: Icicle is a wonderful character and I like it that there is finally an interesting Warg fanfic character. I've been waiting for one to show up.  
Llinos: Interestingly, she grew up as a Deus ex machina, since I joined the story around chapter 7 and wanted some relief for Pippin. I spotted this warg sitting in the corner that Kooks had put there and she grew from there.  
Kookaburra: Yep, the mutt does grow on one, doesn't she?

HMP: suddenly has visions of three long-blond hair girls running in screaming in terror almost tripping over their long legs*  
Llinos: Oh dear – two of them are supposed to be blokes!  
HMP: a little baby pippin but as he looks now?  
Llinos: Yes – it's quite a tempting image – no?  
HMP: but it's bad! very bad! or is it?  
Llinos: Nothing is decided yet! ;-)  
HMP: Would there be a way to turn it back around?  
Llinos: No – it's a one-way street – can't go back.  
HMP: don't tell me you killed him! please don't!  
Llinos: Whoops – sorry 'bout that! No – we didn't, but you know that now.  
HMP: GO HALDIR! Now I love the elf even more  
Llinos: Well that's good.  
HMP: Any plans for Sam?  
Llinos: No.  
HMP: I actually Re-started reading 'recaptured' last week on some other site. up to chappie 23 now  
Llinos: Oh good – I actually re-wrote from chapters 20-24 as I hated the originals.  
Kookaburra: Speaking (writing!) of which, Marigold is going over earlier chapters of MR, and giving them her full beta treatment. So keep an eye out for those.

Zebra Wallpaper: settle in for some serious hobbit group therapy.  
Llinos: Well they're trying the next best thing – serious Fellowship group therapy – I'd buy that!  
Zebra Wallpaper: I'm completely, shamelessly addicted to this.  
Llinos: Nothing to be ashamed of :-)!

Camellia Gamgee-Took: OMG!! This is fantastic!  
Llinos: That's the kind of comment that will make writers keep on keeping on!

PS and don't forget to review – otherwise we'll have nothing to put in this section!   
signed Kookaburra & Llinos


	37. Continued

Moria's Revenge

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta: Marigold

Chapter 37 – Continued  
  


"Pippin, I know you might not want to tell any more," Aragorn lifted the hobbit's chin and gazed into his tear-filled green eyes. "So let me ask you a question instead."

"I suppose so." Pippin gave a small hiccup and looked at the goblet of red wine. Boromir wordlessly took the vessel from his hand and set it down.

"What do you think we did when we found you were missing?" Aragorn had let Pippin's chin go, but his large hand stole over the little hand and covered it protectively. "I don't know if you thought about it then, perhaps you were too distraught, but think about it now, it's important."

"I-I don't know." Pippin had thought about it at the time and that memory suddenly flew back to him. "I wished for a moment that you would rescue me, th-then I-I didn't... I was always in trouble and a nuisance and I thought you'd be glad I was gone, especially after I caused the orcs to find us and the... the big thing th-that killed..." Pippin broke off, staring at his feet again now. Merry said nothing but stroked his cousin's hair, he wanted to scream at Pip, to tell him how he was not a nuisance and that he was frantic when Pip was missing, but he held his peace, for he knew Aragorn had matters in hand.

"Anything else?" Aragorn prompted. "Did you not think that we would be looking for you or that we would be frantic with worry?"

"Not really," Pippin shook his head with sorrow, "I knew that after what had happened, after what the orcs had done to me, you probably wouldn't want me back anyway, I felt so dirty and disgusting."

"Well I'm sorry little one," Aragorn made Pippin look at him again as a kind, gentle smile spread from the ranger's lips to his eyes. "You have the answer to that very, very wrong. Pippin, we were desperate with worry for you and immediately started a search. Merry especially was in a terrible state, I feared for his health and Frodo and Sam were distraught."

"Wh-what's distraught mean?" Pippin thought he could guess what the big word meant, but could not think of what else to say.

"It means worried to distraction." Aragorn explained gently. "As soon as we knew you were missing, Legolas and Gimli went in search of you."

"Aye, we did young hobbit." Gimli supplied, "and a difficult trail it was. I fear we failed badly. The goblins led us a dance with their false tracks and meanderings. They set out to make sure we would not be able to find you."

"It grieves my heart little one," Legolas's voice actually trembled a little as he spoke, making Pippin looked up at him with wide eyes. "Just when I needed all my skills of hearing and seeing the most, they proved false." The elf's head drooped down and Haldir rested a comforting hand upon his shoulder. "I failed you Pippin and I have never until now, asked your forgiveness."

"But... but..." Pippin stammered unable to form words. Surely the only one at fault for his capture and torture was himself. He had deserved what happened to him, the orcs had told him he did and he had believed them. "Not you, Legolas!" Pippin finally managed to exclaim. "You could not do a wrong to anyone."

"We both are at fault." Gimli agreed and, hitching forward from his seat on the ground, he moved to kneel in front of the bewildered hobbit. "I too crave your forgiveness young Peregrin. I too was deceived by the goblins' mendacity and cunning. We followed the false trail they left through the woods, not realising at first that they would be clever enough to lead us astray."

"Gimli is right." Legolas continued in a subdued voice. "We were arrogant in our belief that we could track them easily and retrieve you, little one. The time we wasted meant your torture was prolonged and for that we are to blame. It would not be reasonable to ask you to forgive us for the wrongs you suffered because of our failing." Legolas's face was filled with grief and tears ran freely down his cheeks now. "But all I ask is that you understand it was lack of skill that kept us from you, not lack of care."

"I- I don't know what I should say?" Pippin looked at Gimli and then Legolas, his heart was clenched with sympathy for the guilt-stricken pair, but surely they could not have felt so responsible for what had happened to him. "It wasn't your fault I got lost and stolen."

"No Pippin," Aragorn put his hand on Gimli's shoulder. "It was not their fault and it was not yours either. If anyone was to blame it was I – please, please try to believe that! Each of us feels responsible in some way for what happened to you and, of all of us, you are the least to blame – do you understand?"

"I think so." Pippin whispered it very quietly. "But I spent so long believing what they, the orcs told me, and thinking that you were not even looking for me and that it was my fault, that it's hard to see it any other way." Pippin looked up at the Fellowship and his eyes rested on Legolas who was still weeping and then moved to Boromir. "Especially with what happened in the dining hall. I hardly understand how it did – but that's what made me think you all hated me."

"Pip!" Merry finally could hold his peace no longer. "Why would you think that my little love? You know it's not true!"

"Perhaps Pippin feels ready to go on with the story now." Aragorn suggested gently. "Then he can explain why he thought that."

Gimli resumed his place in the circle on the cushions, Legolas dried his eyes and Boromir refilled Pippin's goblet with a little more wine, judiciously watered down by half and handed it back to the hobbit.

"When they first took me into the mine I was thrown in a little cave with bones and skulls." Pippin shuddered at the thought and Merry cuddled a protective arm around him. "Then they shut me in and it was pitch black so I couldn't see." Pippin paused for a sip of wine. "I was glad though because, although I was cold and hurting, at least I was alone. But then they came for me again."

"Oh Pip!" Merry buried his face in Pippin's shoulder and squeezed him close as he felt the little body tense with the pain of memory again. Icicle whimpered slightly but nobody else spoke.

"Two big orcs came and dragged me out. They told me it was my fault I was there and that I had killed Gandalf and the fire demon thing, because I had dropped the stone in the well. So that was when I knew."

"Pippin," Aragorn gently interrupted, "did you not think what they said was a bit strange?"

"No," Pippin shook his head. "I already knew it was true, even before they took me - if I hadn't dropped the stone, they might never have found us."

"Oh Pippin, my lamb, that can't be true." Merry stroked his cousin's shortened curls that were growing damp with sweat. "Think about it my sweet. How could they know it was you that had dropped the stone if they hadn't already been watching us?"

"What do you mean Merry?" Pippin had been so convinced that it was his fault that this information made no sense to him.

"Pippin," Aragorn explained patiently, "I tried to tell you before, but I don't think you knew what was going on too much. "They - the orcs and goblins - could not have possibly known it was you that made a little noise unless they had already been there and seen us - seen you drop the stone. How could they have known otherwise?"

"Besides," Boromir added, "we made many other noises, it was only a matter of time before they would have found us. How could nine people move silently through crumbling mines for four days and pass unnoticed by those already there. It just was not possible."

"But Gandalf said..." Pippin began but trailed off.

"Gandalf knew we could not reach the other side without being discovered." Aragorn gently pointed out. "He did not want to frighten you hobbits, but he knew we would have to fight ere the end but wanted to delay it for as long as possible. He also feared the Balrog. That was why I did not want to go into the mines in the first place."

"So it really wasn't my fault?" Pippin shook his head in disbelief. "I really thought I had caused it all to happen."

"No Pippin, you did not." Aragorn took his hand and looked firmly into his trusting green eyes. "Really my dear little hobbit, your tiny stone did not kill Gandalf, nor did it alert the orcs, they already knew we were there."

"But I thought you had come to punish me." Pippin's face was bewildered again as he looked back into Aragorn's steady gaze. "That was why you all came into the dining hall with the orcs to beat me."

"Pippin, I think you must have been very confused." Boromir said gently, "but really we did no such thing."

"Nor would we." Aragorn drew the confused hobbit's attention again. "Pippin you know better than that."

"If we had found you with the orcs we would have slaughtered every last one of them." Gimli growled in anger, "we would taken you out of there at once, not helped them. Did you really think so badly of us?"

"And of yourself?" Legolas asked sadly. "None of us would harm you Pippin or wish any harm upon you."

"No!" agreed Boromir, "nor suffer those that harmed you to live!"

"So why did you think that little one?" Aragorn asked gently. Pippin was starting to get a little agitated at the anguished rebuttals of the others. There had to be a reason for him thinking as he did. "What made you think we wished you harm? Carry on with your story Pippin, if you can, from where the orcs took you from the prison."

Pippin gulped a little more wine and looked around at the patient faces. Merry gave him a small squeeze and he began again. "I was so ashamed as I had no clothes, only my scarf and the orcs pulled me out and when they'd said all those bad things to me, they put a collar and leash on me as if I were a dog. Then they put chains on my wrists and ankles, with a chain between that was so tight I couldn't stand, and I had to crawl on the ground."

"That was the collar with the spikes in it." Boromir remembered removing the cruel apparatus when they had found Pippin. "When they tightened the chain it made the spikes dig into you. You must have been very brave not to have passed out from that Pippin."

"I didn't know that," Pippin admitted, "I just remember that it hurt horribly. I didn't know why, I just thought I was very weak to feel such pain. But after a while I was more worried about other things."

"My poor little one." Merry was trying to be brave, but Pippin's suffering was more than he could bear and the tears were flowing freely again.

Pippin's bottom lip jutted out as he remembered the dreadful humiliation. Recounting it now was the first time he had allowed himself to even think about it coherently. "They dragged me to a big eating place – a dining hall I think. There were long bench tables and wargs roamed about looking for scraps. I was chained up to a ring and then they were eating and I was so hungry, Merry." Pippin looked at his cousin knowing that he over anyone else would understand. "I begged for food. I know it was wrong, but I couldn't help it."

"It wasn't wrong, Pippin," Boromir gave a half smile. "You only did what your survival instinct told you to do. I don't suppose a hobbit's natural urge for self-preservation is tested very often, but it is obviously keenly present."

"I- I don't understand, Boromir," Pippin looked at Merry first, but he too shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. They both looked up at the Gondorian and then Aragorn. "What does that mean?"

"What Boromir means," Aragorn explained, "is that all living, breathing creatures have a natural instinct to take care of themselves. It's what makes you able to hide very easily when big folk come along, for that is the built-in defence of the hobbit folk. It's also what makes your blood pump fast when you're scared so you can run away or fight harder. It's what makes you feel hungry so that you know you have to eat," the ranger added with a smile, "a defence that works very well in hobbits."

Both Merry and Pippin each gave a small giggle at this comment, smiling through their tear-stained faces. "So Pip was only doing what he had to do?" Merry confirmed, looking lovingly at his little cousin.

"Yes, I have known mighty warriors beg for crumbs if their need were great enough." Boromir added. "But Pip, did they give you anything?"

"No," Pippin shook his head sadly. "Well one did. He gave me a mushroom, but the wargs fought me for it and there were too many, so they took it... and... and I tried to get a drink of water as well." The memory of the wolf-like creatures prompted the hobbit's recollection of his other confrontation with the animals. "There was a bowl of water on the floor, really dirty water, but I was frantic with thirst and... and I managed to drink some of it, but then a big warg came and chased me away and drank most of the water, so I only got a couple of mouthfuls."

"But that was good Pippin," Boromir told him. "It was more important that you got some liquid inside you than food really."

"Yes it was." Legolas agreed. "But it must have been very frightening for you Pip, with all those fierce animals fighting around you."

"I thought they would bite me at least, or tear my throat out." Pippin confessed. "I was petrified of them all. But the worst part was... was..." Pippin broke off again, staring at his feet, afraid to meet the eyes of his friends, even though he knew none of them would look down on him openly. 

"What Pippin, my love," Merry urged him. "You can tell us."

"No! I can't" Pippin suddenly wailed in anguish, "because... because, telling you... Merry, I'm too ashamed. Even now, sitting here with you all, it's like it happening all over again." Pippin looked frantically around at the group. He pulled away from Merry and, dropping the goblet, caught hold of the precious scarf and hugged it to his body as if trying to cover himself up. "Why are you asking me all this?" Pippin looked on the verge of panic all at once, "you know what happened. You must know - you were all there!"

"Pippin what are you saying?" Merry caught hold of his cousin's arms and held him firmly in spite of Pippin's struggles to get away. "We weren't there - we would not have stood by and let any of this happen to you, you know we wouldn't!"

"Why do you think we were there little one?" Aragorn prompted gently. "Were you getting a bit confused by then? It's not such a strange thing to happen, many prisoners become disorientated after prolonged torture and you had certainly suffered that."

"I- I'm not sure," Pippin stuttered. "It does all get a bit hazy after that." He looked at the concerned faces over the top of his protective scarf. Gradually the little hobbit realized that he must have been mistaken, about Merry anyway, but it had all seemed so real. "Th-they did something else to me then." Pippin was trembling now as he remembered the next dreadful incident. Slowly he crept back into Merry's comforting embrace. No one pushed him to continue, letting him find his own time and pace.

"Th-they p-picked me up and put me on the table - on my back." Pippin looked nervously around as if someone was about to repeat this action and put him on a table again. "...and... and they put something, a thing they had been eating - I don't know what, put it in my... there..." Pippin, not wanting to vocalize what had been done to him, patted his hand to his rear. "It hurt like nothing I could describe - I haven't the words for it." He shook his head sadly and curled into Merry's arms as if their warmth might chase away the bad memory.

"It was probably cayenne, Pippin." Boromir said gently. "It's a very hot spice, I've seen cruel people do it to horses, to make them buck and leap about. Did they say they were going to make you leap about? Was that it?"

"Th-they said it would make me dance." Pippin agreed, "and I ran about but it only hurt me more and I hit my head on the wall, but nothing would make it stop."

"There, there," Merry stroked Pippin's face and kissed the tears from his cheeks. "Poor my Pip, you were so brave."

"The next thing I remember was they – they put something in my mouth." Pippin frowned at the half-forgotten foggy thought. "A mushroom I think. One of them sat me in his lap and fed me pieces of mushroom." Pippin looked up with an air of triumph. He had never quite managed to capture that memory before, there was just a vague recollection of an orc stuffing bits of food into his mouth, but now he remembered exactly. That was why he had been upset earlier when Merry fed him a mushroom - it had reminded him. "But after that it all gets muddled up." Pippin shook his head as if that would rearrange the thoughts into the proper order. "I can't quite sort out what happened."

"I think I know what it was, young Pip." Gimli nodded knowingly as all turned to face him. "It was an hallucinogenic mushroom."

"What's that?" Merry asked. Pippin just looked at them both in confusion.

"It's a very strange type of mushroom that only grows in caves such as Moria." Gimli explained. "They are quite dangerous and young dwarves are warned away from them at an early age."

"What do they do?" Merry hugged Pippin in a little closer, nuzzling his face into his cousin's curls.

"If you eat one, they make you see things that are not there." Gimli said simply. "So, for example, you might think there is a bridge when there is none and fall to your death. That's what makes them so dangerous."

"But I saw all of you there." Pippin peeped nervously up at Boromir. "I saw you Boromir and you had a whip and... and I kept saying I wouldn't annoy you any more if you'd just spare me... but... but it hurt worse because you were whipping me. Then you gave the whip to Legolas and... and..." Pippin slowly trailed off. It had seemed so real but now that he thought about it of course it made no sense - no sense at all. Why would Boromir and Legolas beat him in an orc's cave? "It wasn't you – was it." The realisation had finally registered in the little hobbit's brain. "How could I have been so silly to think it was?"

"Pippin, you're not silly." Boromir said kindly, "You were very traumatised and they drugged you with that bad mushroom. The mind is a strange thing and can easily go off balance, you really coped very well considering the terrible things they put you through."

"And it explains a lot that we did not understand before." Aragorn had worried much about Pippin's mental state while he had nursed his bodily hurts. It had taken a lot of work and patience to make him realise he was safe and that they were not going to torture or torment him, especially when his treatment had called for painful procedures. "That is, I expect, part of why you were so afraid of us after we found you. I do not think you knew for a long time who we were even."

"I was very confused," Pippin agreed. "I didn't know where I was or what I was doing. I'm not even sure exactly when you found me. It's all mixed up now."

"Well perhaps we can piece that together for you," Aragorn suggested. "Tell us what else you remember, if you can Pippin." The man paused and looked appraisingly at the little one. Hobbits were so hard to predict, one moment they seemed so emotional that nothing would ever calm them, then they seemed able to deal with the most traumatic of events. "Unless you need to take a rest for a while?"

"No Strider," Pippin seemed a lot calmer now. "I can carry on - I just don't remember that much. When Boromir – I mean the orcs were whipping me I lost consciousness and when I came to I was being taken somewhere by the big orc, to his chief. I don't remember it all, but I do remember it was very, very bad!" Just thinking about what had happened once in Master's chamber made Pippin shiver again. He tried to go on with his account, but found it very difficult to continue, despite his assurance to Strider. The only sounds he could make around the lump in his throat were several choking gulps. It seemed that the harder Pippin tried not to cry, the more tears fell from his eyes.

"When – when we reached M-Master's room," Gimli stirred at the way Pippin referred to the chief orc, but held his peace. The last thing Pippin needed was to be interrupted right now. "The big orc pushed me into it really hard. I remember hurting my hands and knees. And – and then I looked up, and all I could see were two huge boots, and I felt so scared, and I couldn't see that well, and suddenly Master picked me up, and then... and then..." Pippin's account paused as he remembered the big orc's hands on him, touching everywhere, taking the last shreds of his pride.

Once again he abruptly pulled out of Merry's arms. Pippin could not bear to have anyone touch him, not right now, not with those memories playing in his head.

"Pippin?" Merry asked quietly, having learned over the years, but especially this last week, that it was generally a good idea to leave Pippin alone when he got like this, and to not push him. After all, Pippin always came back to him, in the end.

"What are you feeling, Little One?" Aragorn prompted, trying to get Pippin to open up so that the rest of the Fellowship could help him sort though his confused emotions.

Pippin's whole frame quivered, and the little hobbit bowed his head and put one hand over his eyes. "I- I don't kn-know...I just don't know!" wailed Pippin.

"No, Pippin," interjected Legolas, "I'm sure you do know what you are feeling. You just don't know what to make of it. You can tell us what you feel, you don't have to know why you feel what you do."

Nodding wordlessly, Pippin raised his head from his hand, and turned his head towards Merry, but kept his eyes downcast. "I f-f-felt like I didn't want to be touched. B-b-because it reminded me of M-m-master. B-but then I moved away from Merry and that felt worse..."

Merry felt a lump in his throat at Pippin's words, and made a move to fold Pippin back into his arms. Pippin saw this, but flinched away again. "My poor Pip- what did he do to you?" Merry exclaimed – Pippin might have sulked on occasion, and when he was delirious after being rescued he had panicked often, but flinching away from Merry's touch while completely lucid was a new reaction from Pippin.

"Oh, Merry, you can't imagine!" Pippin cried out, and his sobs returned. "I was so scared- M-Master was everso, everso big – even taller than Strider! And – and at first I thought he wasn't as bad as the others, because he – he petted me and didn't shout, and after all the others hitting me and snarling at me it felt so good!" Pippin attempted to get himself under control, and drew several deep shaky breaths.

"You're doing wonderfully, Pippin," said Boromir from across the room. The Gondorian was really very impressed and proud of the small but strong hobbit seated in front of him. Every time he thought that Pippin would have to stop, he would draw upon some hidden reserve of strength, and continue. Darkness clouded his mind as he thought of the orcs that had wreaked this havoc upon the pure soul in front of him. Someday he would make them repay every tear Pippin had shed with a gallon of their own foul blood and his bloodlust was fuelled even further by what Pippin related next.

"M-Master just kept touching m-me- he touched me really bad... H-he said I w-was interesting b-because I l-looked like a wench, b-but I am a lad." Pippin drew his knees up to his chest and hugged them, as if trying to block out the world with all its bad memories.

"Pippin, no one could mistake you for a lass," Aragorn told him, "he was saying that to torment you and even if it were true, it's not a bad thing to be fair of face."

"Which you are Pippin, dear heart," Legolas said gently, "You are extremely fair of face and I expect that is why the orcs did not kill you at once, because they desired your beauty."

"I'm afraid Legolas is right," Boromir added. "If you were not so well favoured in your looks I doubt they would have abused you so."

"Your friends speak true," Haldir nodded his head, "Orcs delight to take their pleasure with anyone that is pleasing to the eye and you, my little one, are past pleasing. On this occasion it proved your undoing, but also your salvation, for otherwise they would have killed you out of hand."

"Oh, I didn't think... I mean..." Pippin broke off. He was quite perplexed at the idea that the orcs had actually found him attractive in any way.

"What happened next, Pippin?" Aragorn could see that he was confused; they could come back to this concept later.

"Then – " Pippin's expression suddenly became almost peaceful. "-Then I met Umum!" He paused to scratch the dozing wolf's ears. Icicle merely cracked open an eye and thumped her tail on the ground a few times. "M-master made me crawl over t-to where Umum was, and he chained me up. Only I was very frightened, because I didn't know Umum then. I thought she was just like the other wargs in the caves."

Now it was Merry's turn to smile at the snowy lupine. "I don't think she's quite like any warg, Pip."

"No, she really isn't like anything, is she?" replied Pippin. "B-but I was very frightened of them at first – you see, Merry, there were two wargs in Master's room. The other one didn't really pay much attention to me. I was glad of that, because Master started to feed them from his plate, and they didn't fight or anything for the food, a-and I had to sit next to them on the ground, and wait for M-m-master to finish feeding them. And, I know it was bad of me, Merry, but I kept wishing that Master would notice me, and maybe feed me something... I didn't need much, just something."

M0erry responded by first carefully rubbing Pippin's back, trying to keep his touch as unobtrusive as possible. He would do anything to prevent Pippin from fleeing his arms again. Then he whispered softly into Pippin's ear, reminding him of what Aragorn had said about how there was no shame in trying to survive. Finally Pippin hiccupped, blew his nose, and continued with his tale.

"Then – then it got so bad, Merry... it was s-so bad!" Pippin said to Merry, "M-Master p-put me on – on the bed, and, and h-he..." Pippin's voice now dropped down to a whisper. "He kissed me, Merry. But – but it wasn't a nice kiss, not like the ones you give, Merry." Pippin lifted his head and looked pleadingly into Merry's eyes. "I – I swear Merry – I didn't want to – I didn't mean to kiss him, I swear! P-Please don't be angry with me!"

Merry felt a surge of anger coupled with protectiveness at Pippin's words. He couldn't bear seeing Pippin so distraught and scared. "Shh, shh Pip- I know. You had no control over any of it, remember? Just be calm, I'm here now... shhh... cry as much as you need to, and then go on, all right?"

Pippin just choked and hiccupped, then turned and embraced Merry again. Merry's whole being was screaming at him to hold Pippin and comfort him in some way, but he was restrained by his promise not to touch Pippin without his consent.

"M-M-Merry?" Pippin's voice was barely over a whisper.

"Yes, my Pip?"

"I-I was thinking, perhaps, you could touch me again?" Merry's heart sang with joy at Pippin's request. He carefully and slowly brought one hand up and ran it lightly through his cousin's curls, while bringing his injured arm up to gingerly hold Pippin about the shoulders.

"Is this all right Pip?" He asked warily, not wanting to frighten the battered soul in his arms.

Pippin nodded and let his head drop to Merry's shoulder again, just breathing in Merry's scent and relishing the feel of his cousin's arms around him. "Merry?" Pippin whispered into his cousin's pointed ear.

"Yes, Pip?"

"M-May I sit in your lap? Like I used to?" Pippin whispered this even more quietly, and only Merry and the sharp ears of the elves caught it. Merry smiled affectionately down at Pippin through his own tears.

"Of course you can Pip – here, " Merry grunted with effort as he pulled Pippin into his lap. Pippin, for his part, curled up against Merry's chest immediately and snuggled in as tightly as he could manage.

"Oof! You're a bit bigger than the last time we did this, Pip. I remember when you were little enough to fit all yourself into my lap!" Merry laughed.

"I did not get bigger, Merry." came Pippin's muffled voice. "You've just always been abnormally large. I'm just glad you've shrunk down to manageable proportions over the years." Merry's heart swelled. This was the Pippin he knew, a hobbit who was always making sharp and witty remarks, the Pippin that could always make people laugh.

Pippin sniffled again. "I think I can tell the next part now..." Merry just made a reassuring noise in his throat, and held his cousin tighter still. "After – after he..." Pippin shamefacedly dropped his gaze and made a motion with his hand towards his mouth. "Then, M- master turned me over, and – and... h-he g-g-got on top of me, and he was so heavy!" Pippin whimpered. The only response Merry could give was to hold on to him tighter. "And- and I couldn't breathe at all! Then- then he - he did like the orcs in the rocks did, only-" Pippin suddenly clamped his hand over his mouth and was silent.

"Only what, Pippin? What was different?" Aragorn urged.

Pippin turned bright red. "No- no I can't- it's too shameful..." he choked out between shuddering breaths. Boromir took his turn at convincing Pippin that what had happened was not his fault.

"Remember what we said about the orcs in the rocks, Pippin? None of this was your doing, and you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"That's right, love." Merry murmured into Pip's ear. "And remember - no matter what happens, I'll always love you."

"He... he called me..." Pippin muttered the last word so quietly even the elves could not hear it, "...he said it was my name and I had to say it."

"What was it little one?" Haldir asked. The others knew what Pippin had said.

"It doesn't matter." Aragorn looked up at Haldir and shook his head slightly. "We know what he told you to say Pippin, but it was wrong..."

"No!" Pippin broke into Aragorn's protestation. "He was right! Don't you see, Strider? It was because of what happened. It was as if I enjoyed it! But I didn't... truly I didn't, but he said I did because... because, well - you know... I couldn't help it, but I didn't want it to happen."

"Pippin, Pippin," Aragorn cried, "That means nothing!" The ranger moved close to the trembling hobbit and took the small hand in his. "He made you..." the man whispered into the little ear very quietly and Pippin nodded his head, not looking up. "But any male would have reacted that way, you're not made of stone, how would you expect your body to behave?"

"I'm not sure because I never... well, you know... before, not properly anyway, we only..." Pippin broke off. He did not want to tell this group exactly what he and Merry had done before, that was too private. "...only touched."

"I know, I'm sure." Aragorn smiled now. Merry was looking distinctly embarrassed but Strider was glad to learn that Pippin was not completely without any experience before this had happened. "Most lads do the same you know."

Pippin blushed a deeper red – he could barely imagine such doughty warriors as those that surrounded him giving into childish curiosity and desires. After surreptitiously wiping his eyes on a corner of his robe and taking several deep breaths, he indicated that he was ready to continue.

"A-and after he-he was done, he m-m-made me say, 'Thank you Master'...but I didn't want to thank him! I d-didn't want anything to do with him!" Pippin's voice rose and became a bit shrill, and his breathing got heavier and faster.

"Pippin," Aragorn cut in, "What are you feeling right now? Are you afraid?"

The bewildered hobbit looked back up into Aragorn's face. "N-no! Not really right now. I-I just feel..." Pippin searched for the right emotion, "really, really angry! W-why did he do that to me? I never did anything to him! Why?" Now fresh tears were dripping down Pippin's face, but the hobbit's expression was one of rage rather than fear.

Merry tightened his hold on Pippin slightly. "But that's good, Pip! You need to feel angry at them, not scared. They did it because they're miserable cowards, and it makes them feel better when they can bully someone. Just hold onto that anger, and let it chase away the fear." Merry finished his speech breathlessly, and gazed into Pippin's red face.

"That was very wise, Meriadoc." Said Boromir. Merry looked at him in surprise. "You are right in saying that one must turn fear to anger in the face of adversity. You speak as one far beyond your years."

Now it was Merry's turn to blush. "Th-thank you, Boromir." He stammered, overcome by the high praise. He quickly turned back to Pippin, eager to remove himself from the centre of attention. "Pip, what happened, you know, a-after?"

"I don't really know, Merry. M-master kicked me out of the bed, an-and I landed on the floor." Pippin shivered, remembering how the harsh stone had leached the heat from his body. "Then- then he said that he wouldn't kill me yet, that he wanted to play with me some more." Pippin quivered again, but this time not from cold. "Then everything went dark- I think I fell asleep."

TBC

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A/N: I wrote my bit before my hols – honest! But time flies when you're really busy I guess. I know Kooks has been up to her 'ocksters lately, but never fear, we are ploughing on regardless.

A/N: (Kookaburra) yes- Llinos was an industrious fanfic writer, while I was swamped with term papers. But now the only hurdle between me and graduation is reading "The Taming of the Shrew" by Friday, finishing my welds in (suprise!) welding class, and final tests! Hooray for me! WHHHEEEEEEEEEEI'MGRADUATING!!!!!!! Excited? Moi? Surely not...;-)

Pearl Took: And it's over a month since you've updated!  
Llinos: Well I went on holiday and then updated Recaptured, what's your excuse Kooks :-)?   
Kookaburra: I was ensuring a successful future for myself by playing computer games working really hard on school work, and building myself an art site. I'm addicted to html now. :-)

NarsilC: I don't remember if I ever reviewed it before.  
Llinos: Ah memory loss is a terrible thing, let's hope Pip doesn't get a dose of it!

As im underage i think its best i dont sign in! :  
Llinos: No you bad little thingy – I hope you're not too young to be reading such stuff!  
Kookaburra: I would make a comment, but can't really, considering some of the stuff I got into just a couple years ago...

Hel: The next chapter will definitely be very interesting.  
Llinos: Not quite there yet Hel, keep reading (and reviewing of course).

Jukia: *cries REALLY HARD* POOR PIP! PLEASE! PLEASE WRITE MORE!  
Llinos: Ah well if it upsets you so much perhaps we shouldn't!  
Kookaburra: I think we'd better give her a fix quicker next time, eh, Llinos?

Lindelea: Got a PG-13 rated version in the works for those of us whose imaginations are a bit too vivid?  
Llinos: Give us a break – it was hard enough getting it down to R!  
Kookaburra: *gasp* ME? PG-13? No way, my mind is much too dirty for that...:-)

Baylor: I have, indeed, been monopolizing LLinos' time, so my apologies, MR readers!  
Llinos: You see what a faithless, fickle writer I am – abandoning MR to write bits for Baylor and then cheating on MR to write Recap – shame on me! (PS Is there anyone who hasn't read Baylor's Fate and the High King's Falcon yet? Well shame on you! Go and read it at once.)  
Kookaburra: Yes! Do!

Shirebound: I'm eagerly awaiting the rest of it!  
Llinos: Oh dear – could still be another chapter to go.

Blue Jedi Hobbit: (Me? Have fics to update? Yes, but I don't. I'm so cruel...)  
Llinos: Get thee hither and update at once – for shame!

Coriandra: Not that I'm complaining, one of my stories went for almost two months before I posted its latest chapter.  
Llinos: Makes us look like Billy Whizz on speed then. (If Americans don't know who Billy Whizz is, you'd have to ask Billy Boyd – I bet he knows.)

QTPie: You people have no idea how excited I was to see more of this. And now I'm sad again...I read the chapter and have to wait for more!! Sigh.  
Llinos: Ah but at least it wasn't the last chapter!

HMP: Just throwing in my review, since it needs it.  
Llinos: Ah and such a review I hardly know how to review it!

Camellia Gamgee-Took: *throws pink confetti*  
Llinos: Atishoo!

Aelfgifu: . I Just want to give your Pippin a big hug!  
Llinos: Feel free – no charge.

:) :  I can't wait to find out if poor Pippin will keep his memories!  
Llinos: Afraid you'll just have to for now.

LilyBaggins: I find real satisfaction out of watching all the Fellowship members support each other.  
Llinos: Good, because I'm cringing at the Frodolessness of this chapter – it just didn't seem right to break away from Pip. Actually it's all Marigold's fault, she said we shouldn't. (Psst Kooks, Top tip: when in doubt or trubble, always blame Marigold.  
Kookaburra: (OK- I'll try that next time!) But don't worry Lily, my next big project is your traumatised! Frodo fic. Yes- I lurve fics that have everyone involved, and don't just confine the action to a couple characters. That was what impressed me so much about "Recaptured!" When I first started reading it (just over a year ago!) and it truly inspired me!


	38. Finished

Moria's Revenge  
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos

Chapter 38 – Finished  
Author: Llinos  
Beta: Marigold

"Best make a large space." Gimli shooed Boromir and Aragorn a little further back in the circle as Legolas and Haldir set down two large trays brimming with food and drink. "There is plenty for all and extra for the hobbits." The dwarf's joke was a little thin, but both Merry and Pippin managed a faint smile. 

Although they had all eaten not so very long before, Aragorn had decided a little impromptu picnic might offer some respite from the intensity of poor Pippin's recounting and perhaps appeal to the hobbits. In the past, food had never failed to lighten their mood and while he did not expect that now, sustenance for Merry and Pippin was probably a good idea in any case.

"Are you hungry Pip?" Legolas selected a prettily iced small cake, "this little dainty looks like yours." 

"No, I don't want to eat that, Legolas," Pippin looked at the smooth pink icing with the delicate sugared flower on the top, "It seems too pretty to spoil."

Aragorn looked at him thoughtfully and then took the fancy little cake from Legolas and held it up, turning it this way and that. "It is pretty Pippin, and delicate, just like you. Is that why you don't want to eat it?"

"I'm not sure," Pippin frowned as he considered this. "It's as though I would be damaging something that is perfect and unbroken and I don't want to do that."

"Because that is what was done to you." Merry concluded. "But my Pip you are still perfect and you will be whole again. You're not like a cake, one little bite and nothing can put you back together, you're more enduring than that – and more precious."

"Then how about a little bread and cheese," suggested Gimli, "or some fruit?"

"I – I… no thank you, I'm not really hungry." Pippin rocked to and fro very slightly and, in an automatic reaction, put his hand over his mouth.

"Pippin," Aragorn gently took the small hand in his, lifting it away from the hobbit's mouth to brush his lips gently across the childlike fingertips. "Why don't you want to eat? You've barely eaten anything except for the pie just now, when you didn't remember anything. Are you not hungry? Or is it something else? Can you tell us?"

"I'm scared of it…" Pippin whispered, looking fearfully round. "It just makes me feel bad to try and eat, even when I'm really hungry and… and…"

"What my love?" Merry put his arm round Pippin and squeezed him gently, "it was something they did, wasn't it?"

Pippin nodded miserably as the memories came flooding back. "I don't know if I can talk about it yet… or ever."

"Take your time little one," Boromir suggested. "There's no hurry. We'll wait until you are ready."

"Is there anything you want, Pippin dear?" Legolas asked solicitously. "Another glass of wine, some tea? Anything at all?"

"I – I think, most of all," Pippin paused looking up at the expectant faces. It was a little overwhelming for the hobbit that all these big people cared so much about him and his well-being. "I'd like bath."

"Pip, you are perfectly clean." Aragorn told him. "Deilen and Melystra washed you this morning, are you sure you want another bath?"

"Unless…" Merry whispered in the hobbit's ear so that no one else could hear. It had been a long time since Merry had asked such a question – not since Pip was about 5 years old and then it was a false alarm. But since he had been ill Pippin had only recently gained complete control over such things again, which was hardly surprising, given how ill he had been.

"No, I didn't Merry." Pippin went a little red, "Not this time. I just want a bath, I feel dirty. Look my hands are all messy and… and I think my face is very dirty…"

"Pippin," Aragorn interrupted him. "You are as clean as a new pin, I promise you. You only feel dirty because of what happened and now that you are talking about it, your brain is reacting by telling you to wash it all away."

"I don't understand." Pippin said mournfully, "How does my brain tell me things I don't know?"

Even Aragorn was a little thrown by this question. "Errm, it's a kind of subconscious message. Subconscious means that you think it without realising why you thought it. But there is usually an underlying reason and in your case, Pippin…" Aragorn studied the worried little face and realised that the hobbit really was not following any of this. "You're really not dirty, but if it makes you feel better, would you like perhaps just a bowl of water to wash your hands and face?"

Pippin nodded morosely "That might help, but I think I'd rather have a bath." He scrubbed at his arms unconsciously as if they itched, "I think I feel very dirty again – really."

"I know you feel that way Pip," Merry added his voice now, "but truly, Aragorn is right, you don't need to bathe again my love, you are as sweet as a daisy."

"And Pippin," Aragorn continued, "I think you need to stop trying to scrub your body clean, you've hurt yourself doing that already and it isn't necessary – please, trust me, you are not dirty."

Nevertheless, Legolas brought the sad little hobbit a bowl of warm water and some fragrant soap with a flannel. He gently bathed Pippin's hands and face himself, not allowing the vicious scrubbing that Pip would apply and then dried him with soft towels. "There all clean now, Pippin," the elf smiled as he rolled the too big sleeves back down. "But I'll bring a fresh bowl in case you want to rinse your hands and face again."

"Now then," Aragorn said as gently as possible, "can you carry on little one? I know there is much more that you have not told us, or even admitted to yourself. You need to remember it all Pippin or the memories will come back to haunt you when you are not expecting them, so you have to deal with it now."

"I know it's hard Pip," Merry took his hand whether Pip wanted it or not, his cousin was going to stay close. "But Strider is right – you have to know whether you can live with the memories because they won't just go away."

"I- I…" Pippin stammered at the memory of all that had taken place in the Master's chambers. "I'm not sure you would understand, Merry, and there's something else."

"What my love?" Merry asked stroking Pippin's short curls. "Whatever it is I won't mind."

"I-it's just that what happened was so dreadful and I felt so filthy after," Merry could feel Pippin trembling now, "it would be like dragging you there as well. Oh Merry, it was horrible enough for me – I don't want you to suffer what I did and I know you would, just by knowing what happened."

Merry was stunned into silence for a moment by this declaration. What could be so terrible that Pip couldn't share it even with him – especially after all the dreadful things he had already told them. Merry shuddered with horror as he realised that it must have been so horrendous to make his little cousin feel this way.

But it had to be done. "Pip please." Merry held Pippin's face in his hands now and gazed into the green eyes. The bruising was starting to fade, although the mental bruises were obviously much deeper and hurt far more. "I know you don't want to hurt me, but I don't want to lose you and that's what might happen if I can't help you to get over this. Please, you have to share it with me – and with the others and perhaps in the sharing, the pain will be halved too. If we – if I – live it with you, I can take some of the burden off your poor heart, if it is so terrible then it is too much for you to bear alone."

"All right Merry," Pippin's voice had sunk to a whisper again. "I'll try my best, but there are big parts missing I think. Some things I made myself not know were happening."

"That's understandable Pippin." Boromir told him. "It is sometimes an automatic reaction for the brain to black out when things get too much."

"Just tell what you do remember." Haldir suggested. "If your mind has left things out then you will probably never recall what happened and that is as it should be."

"Haldir is right," Aragorn added. "All you have to deal with is what you do remember." The ranger thought for a moment, "You had told us about the Master and his wargs and seeing Icicle for the first time."

"And what he did to me." Pippin added studying his socks so that he did not have to look in anyone's face to see their horror.

"Yes, we know." Aragorn lifted Pippin's face up and gave him a kindly smile, "remember little one, it wasn't your fault."

"When I came to my senses again," Pippin moved to put his arms around Icicle's thick furry neck. "I thought someone else was attacking me, but it was Umum."

"Why did you think you were being attacked Pip?" Boromir reached forward to pat the docile warg. "Was she hurting you?"

"She never did." Pippin squeezed the neck lovingly, "She was licking me, holding me down with her great big paw and licking my back where I'd been hurt. She growled at me a little, if I moved, but she never tried to hurt me – only make me better. But she was just one warg and she belonged to Master, so what more could she do?"

"Nothing, Peregrin." Haldir agreed. "We know now that she was inspired by the Valar to protect you." His elven voice fell to a hushed and reverend tone, "Elbereth Herself looked upon you in your hour of need and took a small pity upon you. But She does not show Her hand lightly. You were blessed indeed that She moved the warg to help you."

"Indeed," Legolas confirmed, "in all the years through which I have lived, never before have I encountered the hand of Elbereth." He moved to place his hand gently on the hobbit's head, "your need was great beyond measure Pippin, but so was your deliverance."

"What does that mean?" Pippin's eyes grew large with wonder at the words. "Are you saying that Elbereth sent Umum to help me?"

"In a way, yes," Haldir explained with a patient smile. "Elbereth saw your plight and, although She did not intervene directly, She breathed upon the warg and inspired her to bring you succour."

"What Haldir is saying," Gimli rolled his eyes a little, why could these elves not put things simply for the young hobbit. "He's saying, Elbereth made Icicle protect you, because She did not want you to die, because you are obviously very precious to Her."

Pippin shook his head in wonder and disbelief. None of it made sense. "Why would Elbereth want to save me? I'm just a little hobbit – a halfling – of no importance at all. I don't understand."

"You are of great worth." Haldir smiled now, "Not just to the Valar, but to all who know and love you, Pippin. Even I, who have known you so briefly, have come to love you dearly."

"So if I tell you what happened later will that still be true? Will all of you still love me?" Pippin trembled as the memory washed over him.

"Of course, Pip." Merry kissed his cousin's brow, "Nothing will ever change that."

Pippin took a deep breath and, shaking his head to refuse the plate of fresh fruit that Gimli offered him, carried on. "Master came then and laughed at Umum licking me – he said I was a hurt pup or something like that – he thought it was funny."

"Pippin, my love," Aragorn took his hand. "I know what that brute told you to say, but you do not have to call him Master now. In fact I think you shouldn't. He is not your master and he never was. You are your own master." The ranger lifted up Pippin's chin, "tell me, what did he look like? Was he pretty?"

"No!" Pippin gasped and then realised that Strider was probably teasing him. It had been so long since Pippin had been teased that he didn't realise at first. "No Strider," he said firmly, "he was very ugly; he looked like an ugly pig, except pigs are better looking."

"Then you shall call him 'Pigface', when you speak of him in future." Aragorn smiled at the tiny look of satisfaction that Pippin seemed to gain from this. It might seem like a small thing, a name, but the ranger knew that psychologically it was important for the little one to gain some semblance of the upper hand over these monsters. "What happened then Pip? What did Pigface do next?"

"He fed Icicle and the other warg." Pippin sniffed as he remembered how hungry he had been then. "They left some of their food, although I think it was Umum that left some and Mas- I mean Pigface said I could have it."

"It is most rare that a warg would leave food uneaten, especially as there were two of them." Gimli pointed out. "We know now that by then she knew she must care for you, and had left the food especially for you."

"Oh do you think so?" Pippin squeezed Icicle again and kissed her white fur. "Did she love me even then?"

"I'm certain of it Pip," Merry added, ""Do you remember feeding the outside dogs at the farm? There would always be competition if there was more than one dog, would there not? And every scrap was always finished."

"Yes, except when there was a mamma dog," Pippin added thoughtfully, "she would always carry some back to her pups."

"And that's what Icicle was trying to do for you." Boromir said. "Dogs and wolves, any kind of animal will fight for it's meat, but a mother will always put her young first – Icicle saw you as her pup."

"But it made no difference," Pippin sighed, "Mast… I mean Pigface wouldn't let me eat it."

"I thought you said he told you that you could?" Aragorn wondered if he'd misheard or if Pippin had got confused in the telling. "Did he change his mind?"

"I don't know," Pippin kept his face snuggled into Icicle's coat. "He made me crawl to the bowl to get it, but when I tried to, he burned me with a hot poker… it was red hot, I could see it and he kept putting it on my skin if I tried to eat, so then I went away from the bowl, but then he kept whipping me and saying I had to eat from the warg's bowl… I didn't understand." Pippin let out a little sob now at the memory, "It was terrible pain and I couldn't do it right to make it stop. Why did he do that? I wanted to eat, and he said I was ungrateful if I didn't, but then he burned me if I tried."

"So that was when you got those terrible burns," Merry's mouth had fallen open in horror as Pip related the torture. "Poor little Pip – I'd like to ram that poker down Pigface's throat and if I found him I would!"

"I know Merry," Aragorn patted the angry halfling's shoulder. "But that does explain why Pip is scared to eat. The brute was conditioning you Pip. Do you see? It was quite deliberate. I don't know why, because I think he planned to kill you anyway, but perhaps he did that to all his victims, so that if they are rescued they will still shy away from food and refuse to eat – just as you did."

"That is true," Boromir agreed. "I have seen rescued prisoners on whom such conditioning had been carried out and it is frighteningly effective, more than you would believe possible."

"But there was more." Pippin looked up from his quiet sobbing in Icicle's coat. "Afterwards he put that thing in my mouth – the hurting thing, so I couldn't close my mouth at all."

"That no doubt reinforced your fear of eating, Pippin." Aragorn told him softly, "It is hardly surprising you don't want to put things in your mouth after that treatment."

"No, there…" The rest of Pippin's sentence was lost as he muttered the words into Icicle's thick coat. 

"What did you say, young hobbit?" Gimli looked at Merry and shrugged. Pippin had started to talk quite openly, albeit with much sorrow and weeping, but perhaps it had all been too much after all as he now seemed ready to withdraw into his frightened shell again.

"Pip?" Merry gently laid his hand on Pippin's back, he was hiding his face in Icicle's fur now and hiccupping sobs that would not abate. "Do you want to stop now? Is it too difficult to continue?"

Aragorn looked at Boromir and then he closed his eyes in silent acknowledgement of the problem. They both knew there was more to Pippin not wanting to put anything in his mouth than the psychological torture with whip and brand. "Pippin," Aragorn put his arms around the shaking shoulders and gently lifted the distraught hobbit upright again. "There was something more – is that what you were saying?"

Pippin nodded but did not look up to meet the ranger's gaze. Merry looked from one to the other, not sure what they were talking about.

"Someone, that pigfaced orc I presume, forced you to take him in your mouth again, like they had done in the rocks?" Aragorn put his head on one side and waited patiently for the answer.

Pippin shook his head, "Not him – it was three others… they came and… and… I don't know, I can't really remember… it was too horrible… horrible! They… they hurt me so much… all three of them… doing things… at once to me! I- I can't let myself remember it!"

"Pippin, I understand that," Aragorn still had hold of the trembling hobbit by the shoulders, "but one day, you might remember it all of a sudden and then perhaps it will be so hard to bear that it has an even worse affect on you."

Pippin shook his head then looked around at his friends' anxious faces. "I don't want to tell. I do remember it, Strider, but I can't talk about it – not now – not ever!"

"All right, I understand Pip." Aragorn released the trembling shoulders gently and patted Pippin on the arm, before resuming his place in their circle. "You don't have to talk about it if it's too difficult."

Pippin looked at his feet again for a long while, then, almost absent-mindedly, pulled one of the socks off to reveal his shaven foot. "The big one with three fingers – he started…" Pippin muttered quietly to his wriggling toes. "With my. . ." Pippin pointed a finger at his pretty rosebud mouth. "Then another used fingers, behind. . . you know…" 

Nobody spoke, Merry squeezed his hand, just to say he was there.

"But the three fingered one got cross and turned me round. He wanted to… well do it properly." Pippin had started to rock slightly now and Merry put his hand on his shoulder to steady him. "So the other one he. . . he did it in my mouth instead and it hurt so much… he held me by the hair and the other one was pulling me back and forth by my waist, they lifted me off my feet and I thought it would never stop. But then when the three fingered one finished, the other one came and did it too and it hurt even more – it was so dreadful…"

"Poor Pippin, it's understandable that you don't want to put things in your mouth." Boromir interrupted discreetly, "But that feeling will wear off, I promise. You are very young to have had such a thing done to you, especially when you were so alone and frightened. You withstood it remarkably well and you will want to eat again in time – really you will."

"No, every time I have to put anything in my mouth, I think of it." Pippin let go of Icicle now and hugged his arms around himself. "But I was hungry and it was hard not to and… and… oh I don't know – I don't understand any of it. I just know I want it to stop – all these terrible memories of it and… and all of it!"

"But Pippin, surely you've told the worst now," Aragorn asked him softly, "I know they hurt you more – your arms especially, but I think you managed to tell us all the really bad things now – the things that you felt shamed by."

"No," Pippin peeped up at the ranger from over his knees that he had drawn up and clutched to his chest. "There's worse and I really can't tell you what it was – I can't tell me even."

"You don't have to say any more Pippin, if it hurts too much." Merry whispered. "Strider said it was all right."

"But Merry, it's in my head now and I don't think I can bear it." Pippin buried his face in Icicle again, wrapping his little arms around her great neck. "I can't stand to think about it and now I can't stop. Oh Merry! What are we going to do?"

"Well if you tell me, Pip my love," Merry tried to loosen Pippin's stranglehold on the patient warg, "I'll be there with you if you think of it again and if I share it, it won't be so bad."

"Yes it will Merry," Pippin wailed. All he could think of now was what they did to him after they had gratified their sexual urges; they had used him like a privy. The humiliation of that was worse than all the pain and hunger and torture. "You don't know what they did and I don't want you to share it. I don't want you to know, any of you, especially you Merry. What they did to me shouldn't be done to anyone, I don't want you to feel it Merry, I don't want you to have any part of it – ever! If this is what it means, then I choose to have my memories taken away – forever!"

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TBC

Author Notes

Llinos in the Chair: Well Kooks got pretty tied up and abandoned me to write this on my ownsome, but she has promised to do some Frodo & Sam next chapter. I'm off now to write some more Recaptured, so that I can write the next bit of this as well as keeping up with the two Role Playing games I'm in now… then… oh never mind… here's the chat:-

Kertaheru: Hello Kookaburra and LLinos (and Marigold too!)  
Llinos: Hi there and welcome!

Kertaheru: in Akkadian (language of Babylon) 'Ummum' means mother. Did you already know that or what?  
Llinos: In a way. I know that if you study the evolution of language the first sound a suckling babe makes is something akin to "Mummmum" which is why it is a very common phenomenon for the word Mumma or Mamma or something similar to mean Mother. That was why I chose that sound for Pip to call Umum – it just got shorter as he got better. 

Shirebound: showing him that he doesn't have to be locked into shamed thoughts or memories.  
Llinos: A very hard thing to do.

Assena: And Poor Merry too, knowing all this happened and he could do nothing.  
Llinos: And that can be emotionally even more painful.

QTPie: This chapter had no Frodo or Sam. *is sad*  
Llinos: Nor this one - Sorry

QTPie: I agree, once I get into reading the huge loads of Pippin angst I don't want to break for a change in scenes  
Llinos: See – Marigold knew that – that's why she wouldn't let us put any F&S in.

QTPie: so I forgive you...this time.   
Llinos: Phew – thanks!

QTPie: Will Frodo be in the next chapter?  
Llinos: Promsis!

Coriandra: I think he's going to be alright without having his memories wiped out, but I hope we find out for sure soon.  
Llinos: Ah well – it's touch and go!

Rohi (former Jessica): I LOVE THIS STORY! IT HAS ME IN TEARS EVERY CHAPTER!!  
Llinos: Oh dear – sorry to make you cry – but at least you obviously enjoy crying!

Pearl Took: Keep posting! I will keep reading!  
Llinos: It's a deal!

Hel: The scene with Legolas and Gimli asking for forgiveness for their failure in finding him was great.  
Llinos: Glad you picked that one out – they're always complaining they don't get enough kudos in this story.

Pipkin Sweetgrass: Well finally! I thought it would be forever before you updated  
Llinos: So did we – been off writing other stuff – sorry.  
Pipkin Sweetgrass: (cracks whip) Now WRITE, damn you, WRITE! ;)  
Llinos: Stop that – or Kooks, Marigold and I will all need counselling!

LilyBaggins: I can forgive you for the Frodolessness *sniff*... one can't have everything... :)  
Llinos: Again I hope :-(

LilyBaggins: I did enjoy this chapter, though, mainly because Aragorn *kills* me  
Llinos: Oh well – there was lots of Aragorn – perhaps you could just substitute Frodo for Pip for the time being. Frodo next time – promsis (see above).

Jukia: This is the best story i have EVER read on ff. I love you *hugs pippin and Kookaburra*  
Llinos: Hey! Don't forget me! If you're going to be that cruel – I'll make you go and read Recaptured just for punishment – you see Kooks I can torture!

Blue Jedi Hobbit 009: Cruelty would be one way to describe it...  
Llinos: What reading Recaptured? Opps no sorry – wrong story. 

Blue Jedi Hobbit 009: and I've been wondering whether I should thank the orcs  
Llinos: Oh yes we should all thank the orcs – actually in Recap – the orcs are quite nice.

HP: How far are you going to take this into the book? I mean, how on earth is Pippin going to cope with being kidnapped by the Uruk-hai?  
Llinos: Beats me! Oh and anyway I don't really answer questions – just make silly smart arse comments.

sam (camilliatook@hotmail.com) : Please hurry and update! Don't let Pippin choose forgetting, that would kill Merry. Hurry and update with Recaptured also please.  
Llinos: Okay!

sam (camilliatook@hotmail.com): I don't think the excuse that I read half the chapter before school and I was going insane without reading the rest of it would count:)  
Llinos: Oh I'd let you off.

More soon: Frodo and Sam next time – Kooks has promised.

Llinos


	39. Sad

Moria's Revenge   
Chapter 39 – Sad

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta Marigold

As Pippin buried his face in Icicle's fur, sobbing his determination to undergo the healing that would remove all his memories, Boromir stepped forward and put his hand on Merry's shoulder, catching the hobbit's eye and shaking his head as he desperately tried to pull his cousin round by force. "Let him be Merry, you're only upsetting him and yourself as well." The man felt a deep shudder run through the halfling as he struggled to compose his feelings.

"Don't decide yet Pippin," Aragorn could see the devastation in both the hobbits. Pippin was sobbing, but more worryingly he seemed unable to touch or even look at Merry. "We've made you suddenly remember things that you find impossible to think about without feeling terrible and that was why it was important for you to talk about it."

"Why Strider," Pippin looked up through his tears, really not understanding what he had been trying to achieve. "Why was it important for me to talk about it - so that you could all know what happened before my memories were taken?"

"No!" Aragorn put his arm round Pippin and gently but firmly drew him into a hug, "I thought you understood. We have put a great deal of strain on you and probably too soon. Normally I would not have suggested you talk about what happened so recently but it was important for you to know whether or not you could deal with the memories."

"It was?" Pippin did not really understand why the others had wanted him to describe what had happened in such detail. 

"Yes," Aragorn gave the trembling hobbit a little smile. "Pippin what you have to decide is not something to be undertaken lightly. It is a very big decision and I know all of us would prefer if you chose not to lose your memories."

"You would?" Pippin peered up at the Ranger.

"Of course," Aragorn pulled back a touch now and turned Pippin to face Merry. "Our memories, good or bad, are what make us who we are. If you choose to give up yours it means that Merry will lose his Pippin, to say nothing of your cousin Frodo and your parents. It's as if you'll be a new person."

"But I think that's what I want." Pippin sniffed and still would not meet Merry's eyes, "After what they did, I don't want to be me any more, I want to be a new person."

The elves and the men exchanged resigned glances but Gimli stood up and went to Pippin, patting Icicle as she nuzzled his hand expecting the usual titbit that the dwarf would give her. "Young Pippin, don't you make your choice yet. It is too big a decision and you are upset." He looked at the others, "I think we should make him wait at least a day or two – give the hobbits a chance to say goodbye if nothing else."

"Goodbye?" Pippin looked up at Gimli, not wanting to believe what he heard. 

"Of course," Legolas joined the dwarf to reinforce his argument. "You will have to say goodbye Pippin my dearest. The Pippin we all know will be gone forever."

Pippin set his mouth in a firm line of resolve. The idea that the Pippin he knew at the moment being gone, appealed to him greatly. He would no longer have to try and deal with the appalling memory of the orcs defiling him. He would not have to think of dear Merry touching his tainted person again. He would not have to remember them urinat… _'No, don't even think about it now!' _Pippin's mind screamed_, 'never, never have to think about that!' _

It was this final memory that had decided Pippin. He had not been able to repeat it to any of his friends and he knew he never would. He feared waking in the night and thinking about it – he already had several times. The thought made his mind freeze and his body quake. The dreadful memory took over his whole being, making him incapable of coherent speech or sensible action. No! He could not live with that memory and if he had to lose all other memories with it – then so be it.

"I'm sorry, but I have to say goodbye then." Pippin's voice was so quiet only the elves could make every word out, but all knew what he had said. "I-I'm sorry Merry," he managed now to finally look at his older cousin. "I do love you - but I can't do it, tell you and share it… not… not that! I can't say, but believe me, I would if I could – but I just can't!"

"I understand my Pip." Merry took him into his arms and squeezed, being careful not to hinder any of Pippin's injuries, but jolting his own recently damaged wrist in the process. "I'll always love you whatever you decide and I'll teach you everything all over again - we all will, Frodo and Sam and me. Don't worry, it will be all right."

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Elven wine, Frodo decided, was not like any of the wines Bilbo or previous generations of Bagginses had laid down at Bag End. Elven wine, Frodo realized, not only did not give one a hangover, it actually made one feel better! He yawned and even managed a gentle stretch, poking Sam in the ribs as he wriggled his arms free of the covers. 

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam came quickly awake and rolled himself to a sitting position, dry washing his hands anxiously as he realized that Frodo was moving perhaps more than he should. "Be careful now, don't you go damaging yourself again before you're even better."

"But I feel much better Sam, really," Frodo smiled at his friend's worrisome ways, "I know I was a bit careless before, but really look at the bandages. No new blood in sight and I can talk without it hardly hurting at all."

"You do look much better Mr. Frodo," Sam admitted his head critically on one side. "Perhaps my massage helped a bit - you know just to relax you a bit."

"I'm sure it did Sam," Frodo managed to reach out and pick up one of the empty wine goblets and sniffed at the dregs. "But I think there was something in this vintage besides grapes you know."

"Are you saying they drugged the wine?" Sam lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "That they put some secret elvish potion in there?"

"Indeed, Master Samwise," In spite of his whisper, Sam had forgotten about Elven hearing. "We often secretly drug our charges." Deilen's voice belied his words and he was obviously amused.

"I-I wasn't meaning to say…" Sam felt his face turning scarlet, he had not intended to be overheard.

"That's all right Sam," Deilen collected up the empty goblets onto the tray. "I did add a little something to the wine, an extract from a special moss called Glaslichen. It has very special healing properties, especially in cases of blood loss."

"But Sam drank the wine too." Frodo looked a little alarmed at the thought of his dear companion being medicated unnecessarily. "Is that not a bad thing?"

"No, no." Deilen reassured them both. "It is quite harmless, in fact humans often use it as a preventative medicine." The elf saw Sam's brow furrow at his words and added, "A medicine you take to stop you getting ill." The elf smiled. "It won't hurt you."

As the healer turned to leave once more, Frodo asked, "Deilen, where is Pippin? Is he up here? I could have sworn I heard his voice earlier."

"Yes, young Pippin is indeed in this flet, as are your other companions. I believe they are having him recall what happened to him." Frodo looked shocked at the news.

"What? Why? Surely that cannot be healthy for him!" Frodo exclaimed. "After all, it has only been just over a week since -it- happened!"

Deilen nodded. "I have my concerns as well, however, I do not know him as well as you and your companions do. Estel seems to think it is a good idea, and I have never known him to be reckless or careless with another's well-being. However, if you feel up to it, would you like me to ask if you could join them? Or if they would mind coming in here?"

Frodo thought for a few moments. "Yes, I'd like that very much, Deilen. I feel almost as if I've abandoned Pippin just when he needed me."

"Very well." Answered the elf, and he swept out of the door.

***********************************************************************************************************

"Come then," Aragorn signalled that it was time for the session to move on. "We shall go to see if Frodo is well enough for visitors." Aragorn climbed to his feet, stretching a little from the cramped position he had maintained for so long. "You must give Frodo and Sam some time to understand your decision, Pippin and then let them say farewell to you."

"You make it sound so final." Pippin looked mournfully up at the ranger, while Merry closed his eyes and made a wish that Pip would change his mind. "As if I was about to die."

"Yes," Aragorn agreed, adding nothing to alleviate the silence that followed.

The stillness of the room was broken only when a soft knock sounded on the chamber door. Aragorn looked up and said, "Enter."

Deilen pushed the door open, and said, "Frodo is feeling much better, and would appreciate visitors, if it would be appropriate." He nodded at Pippin's quivering form, which was still wrapped around Icicle's neck.

"Thank you, Deilen. I daresay we will most likely take up the offer." Deilen nodded silently and slipped out of the room.

"Merry moved a bit closer to Pippin, his head on one side in enquiry. "Well, Pippin? Do you want to go and visit Frodo and Sam?" Pippin nodded and sat up, scrubbing at his face.

"Y-yes, I do, Merry. A-after all, I'm going to have to say good-bye, aren't I?" Pippin tried to put on an unaffected face, but his voice betrayed him and broke on the last few words.

Rising gracefully to his feet, Aragorn looked down at Pippin. "Come, Pippin. On your feet." Pippin was a bit startled at the abrupt tone the Ranger had used, but felt a swelling of determination to stand up with no help. It was a challenge with the stitches in his midriff, but he managed it with a minimum of staggering. Merry was just standing up, and made a motion towards Pippin as if to help him walk once more, but Pippin waved him away.

"No, Merry- I can walk now. I just can't go very fast." Pippin walked forwards a few tentative steps, then looked back at his cousin triumphantly.

"That's very good Pip!" Merry's cheerful tone hid his concern at how much Pippin was still bent over. As the others began to stand and stretch, Merry took advantage of the momentary rise in the noise level to query Aragorn about it.

"You've no need to worry, Merry." was the answer. "It sometimes takes two weeks or more until the skin stretches to accommodate the stitches, and by then they're ready to come out. Pippin is really making remarkable progress in his physical healing." Aragorn did not say it, but the implication that Pippin was not making such improvements in his mental state was plainly there. Merry gazed sadly ahead at Pippin as the younger hobbit tottered out the door at the head of the little procession, talking with, but mostly listening to Gimli.

When they reached Frodo chamber, Sam clambered down from the bed to help Pippin. But the injured hobbit insisted again on doing what he could by himself. Merry breathed a sigh of relief when Legolas finally picked up Pippin and set him on the bed, helping the other two up as well. Every fibre of Merry's being had been tensed to spring to his cousin's aid should he fall.

Frodo's eyes took on a teasing glint. "Hullo there, Pip." he smiled. "Why haven't you come by to greet your Cousin Frodo yet?"

Pippin was astonished. Did Frodo not know all that was happening to Pippin? That he was having to relive the worst experience of his life? "Fro- I, I haven't come because, well, you see…" He faltered, at a loss for words.

"Now Mr Frodo!" Sam exclaimed. "I know now that you're feeling better, since you're taunting Mr. Pippin so – and you weren't even in a state to be able to receive company until you woke up a bit ago!"

"Frodo! I should have known you were teasing!" Pippin said indignantly. "You always are a bit silly the day after you've been drunk!"

Now it was Frodo's turn to be astonished. "Pippin! Wha- how did you know?" He queried, concerned that perhaps something in his behaviour had tipped Pippin off. However, Pippin only gave him a lopsided smile, and nodded towards the nightstand where the empty wine bottle and two glasses stood. Chuckling, Frodo reached out with his good arm and ruffled Pippin's wayward curls. "You don't miss a thing, do you? Sharp as a knife, you are." Nodding vigorously, Pip flopped down next to Frodo, his eyes closing as Frodo continued to stroke his hair back from his temples.

Aragorn hated to ruin the peace that had settled over the room, but he knew that Pippin would have to continue with his account of his days in the hands of the orcs. He cleared his throat.

"Pippin, perhaps you should continue with your story."

Pippin's eyes opened and he looked up warily at Aragorn. "Will I have to start from the beginning? Frodo and Sam don't know everything – will I have to tell it all again?"

"No, Pip." said Merry, reaching an arm around his shoulders. "I'll tell them after you've finished, you don't have to tell it ever again – I promise."

"Oh – that's good then." Pippin murmured quietly as he hoisted himself into a sitting position. He gulped, and looked around at all of the expectant faces. "Well, er- after the-they were done," Pippin's voice halted as he remembered just what 'they' were done doing. "they …p-put the metal back in my mouth, and then they just w-waited for Mast- I mean, Pigface, to come back."

Merry had a feeling that Pippin had skipped over something- something important. He finally decided that he would wait until the others had left before he asked Pippin about it. As much as Merry trusted Strider, he was still not entirely convinced that having Pip bare his soul in front of so many people was a good idea. He surreptitiously reached over and wrapped Pippin's hand in his own, wishing that he could wrap his whole body around his young cousin, and thereby shield him from all the horrible things that had happened.

"P-Pigface had the others go off into the dark part of the room, and I could hear all sorts of horrible metal sounds – clanking, groaning and so on," Pippin continued. "Th-then he took me over to where they were working. First he tied up my hands with my scarf, and then he put it on a big hook that was on a chain from the ceiling." Pippin stopped once more and gazed down at the scarf in his hands, stroking it rhythmically. "That's when I started to get really, really scared. I – I couldn't move or anything! They could have done anything they wanted – well, they already had, but at least before I could fight a little…"

"And you did a wonderful job fighting, Pippin. Remember what we told you?" Aragorn cut in, and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching over and patting the hand that Merry was not holding. Pippin looked up into Aragorn's kind eyes and nodded.

"Yes, I remember. None of this is my fault, and I did everything I could." Pippin duly recited. Aragorn gave him an encouraging smile, still not convinced that the lesson had been learned. "When they were all ready, one of the orcs turned this wheel around and around, and I started to go up to the ceiling."

Then, when I was far, far above the floor, one of them did something to the wheel, and I- I…" Pippin's throat closed from the remembered terror of plummeting to the ground.

"Did you fall, Pippin?" prompted Aragorn. Pippin nodded wordlessly. "How far down did you go?"

"N-Not very far- only a few feet. And then I stopped, but… but I wished I hadn't because it hurt so much!"

"What hurt, Pippin-dear?" Frodo asked quietly from his prone position in the bed.

"My arms," Pippin whispered fearfully. "I th-thought they were to be torn off! And then they did it over and over, and I kept wondering how I was staying up in the air, because surely my shoulders couldn't hurt that much and not have my arms ripped away!"

Merry hugged Pippin even tighter, tears in his eyes, once more feeling a surge of gratitude that his Pippin had been returned in one piece.

"Pippin- do your shoulders ever trouble you now?" Legolas queried, concerned that perhaps some lasting damage had been caused by the rough treatment.

"Sometimes, not always. Mostly in the mornings, when it's cold. But they're getting better, Legolas! Please don't worry on my account."

Boromir chuckled. "Little One, we all worry on your account because you are a member of our Fellowship- we cannot help worrying about ones we love so dearly."

Looking down at the coverlet, Pippin blushed furiously. He still became overwhelmed at the thought of being counted as worthy by the other, in his mind, more useful members of the Fellowship.

"A-after they were done with my arms," he continued, "The orcs then told me something very, very bad."

"What was it Pip?" prompted Merry.

"Oh, I don't think it really matters. Mer- see it didn't happen anyway! At least, not completely."

"Was it what they said about cutting you open, Youngling?" Gimli asked astutely.

"Y-Yes. They s-said they were going to c-cut open my stomach and, 'tear out yer tripes, and string 'em through the trees!' and that y-you were going to find me by following them!" Pippin sobbed now, shaking uncontrollably. "I-I just w-w-was so sc-c-cared when they said that, that everything went really dark." Pippin paused for a few panicked breaths.

Nausea welled up in Sam's throat. He had been listening silently, not wanting to intrude on what was very personal for the gentle-hobbits. His stomach roiled even more when he caught sight of dear Mr Frodo's face. It was paler than usual, and was a mask of cold fear. Sam could barely think about how Mr Frodo would have reacted had the orcs been able to carry out their plan. "But, Mr Pippin," he finally found his voice, "they didn't manage to do any of those awful things, so something must have gone right for you. What happened when you woke up?"

"They'd started drinking again, and I didn't know whether it was a good thing or bad."

"What do you mean, Pippin?" asked Frodo.

"Well, I thought it might put them to sleep, or make them happy so that they wouldn't want to hurt me anymore. But then I also thought that it might make them nasty and angry – you know, like the way Ted Sandyman gets when he's had too much."

"Ah – and which did it make them?" asked Frodo, although he was afraid of what the answer might be.

"It made them happy to start with – that's when they first made me nurse from Umum." Pippin cast a fond glance over to where the warg was sprawled on the floorboards. "One of the orcs suggested it to Pigface because Umum was licking me and pawing at the gag. She dragged me right across the room to her own bed."

"And that was a good thing, wasn't it, Pip?" said Merry. "You at least had something warm and nourishing in your belly."

"Yes," answered Pippin, nodding. "It was a very good thing. Though at first I was really scared, because Pigface said that if I didn't he'd break my legs as well. Then I went to sleep, and I think that was even better- I didn't hurt when I was asleep."

"And that's the reason you slept so much on the journey to Lothlórien, Pippin." interjected Aragorn. "Your mind had equated slumber with safety."

"I suppose so. I remember even less of your finding me than I do of when I was captured." He looked around at each face as if he had suddenly realized something. "Um, Strider? Was- was I difficult at all?"

With a wry grin, Aragorn answered, "You weren't exactly co-operative, Pippin. But don't worry, your reticence to be treated was completely understandable."

"Oh, all right. I just remember some odd things…but they're no matter. Anyway, when I woke up again, Pigface was yelling really loudly at the others. They had all fallen asleep from the drink, and had wasted most of the night. Pigface told them that he would let common goblins do me in."

"Poor Pip!" cried Merry, able to find his voice at last. It must have been terrible for you to have to hear all of that."

"N-no Merry, it wasn't really so bad. I mean, I was afraid because I knew whatever they did would hurt, but dying seemed like the best thing right then."

Merry fell silent, not wishing to prompt any more self-loathing statements from Pippin. It seemed impossible that the cheerful, happy, irrepressible lad he had known from babyhood could not wish to go on living, despite what he had suffered.

"The two goblins were ones who had been in the group to kidnap me, so I was pretty afraid that they- they'd do…what they had done before. Pippin paused then went on. "Pigface also had said that if they had time, they could use the metal thing to break my mouth." Pippin stopped, and looked up at all of the expectant faces. "There isn't really much else to tell. They put me on the rock, an- and cut my stomach, then I heard a yell- not my own, but someone else's- it sounded like a battle cry. The - next thing I remember is…Merry." Pippin turned and smiled at his cousin. "I remember seeing you, Merry."

"Oh and I remember finding you Pip." Merry blanched at the memory. "I'll never forget that for as long as I live and then perhaps it will still remain in my head, after I'm gone."

"Was it so very terrible?" Pippin asked with concern. "Did you feel sickened?"

"Only by what had been done to you," Merry whispered gently. "But mostly, although I was horrified that you were so hurt, mostly it was a feeling of overwhelming relief that you were still alive. That was all I could think about and I know it was dreadfully selfish of me, but I was so happy I had my own Pippin back, I could have burst."

Pippin sat in stunned silence. While he had been recovering Pippin had not been in any fit state to consider very deeply exactly what his ordeal had meant to the others, particularly what it had meant to Merry. For a lot of the time, during his captivity he had assumed Merry would be disgusted with him and never so much as want to touch him again. But now he realised that was not the case – that Merry would have been deeply beset with sorrow had he died, perhaps not even wanting to live himself… no! That was a dreadful thought. But Pippin knew now it was true – it was how he would have felt if it had happened the other way round.

For a moment – a brief second or two – as Pippin looked into his older cousin's eyes he saw the deep love there that was just for him. Then he looked round at Frodo, lying injured beneath the coverlets, trusting him and relying on him for his support and at Samwise, full of concern and worry for him but sure he will be brave and do the right thing. As he looked at the three of them – just for a moment he thought he could do it – could live with the dreadful memories, and if he woke up in the night shaking with terror he could cope with it. They would be near and would help him.

Then **_that_** memory fell unbidden into his mind. Once more he was lying hurt and degraded on the floor of the Master's chamber – Pigface's chamber. Pippin realised it did not work, whatever Aragorn said, he still thought of the dreadful great orc as Master. He was lying there and they… they…

"No! I can't! I can't! I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, Merry! I can't do it." Pippin lifted his head up and shamefacedly looked at the other three. "I have to have it all taken away! I don't want to be me any more – I just can't do it!"

***********************************************************************************************************

Merry held a trembling Pippin tightly as the Big Folk left Frodo's room to tell Galadriel of Pippin's decision. Rocking slightly, Merry stroked Pippin's curls, and whispered encouragement to him. Even though in his head he knew Pippin's decision was his own to make, Merry's heart felt as if it had been torn out. In a few hours, Pippin would not remember him, Frodo, or anyone. 

"M-Merry?" Pippin whispered.

"Yes, Pip?"

"I'm sorry, Merry."

"For what, dear heart?"

"For choosing to forget...I just can't stand remembering anymore!" Pippin's sobs began in earnest again. Merry hugged him tighter for a few heartbeats, and then manoeuvred Pippin to sit up and look Merry in the eyes. He only had a few hours left with the Pippin he had grown up with, and he didn't fancy wasting them on tears.

"Pip - I understand, it's the only thing you feel that you can do, now lets spend what time we have just enjoying each other's company, hmm?" Merry grabbed a corner of the counterpane and wiped Pippin's tears with it. "Can you open your eyes, Pip? Look at me." Still sniffling, Pippin raised his swollen, red eyes to Merry's. "That's it, love." Merry crooned.

"Will you make sure to tell me everything, Merry? Please? I don't want to not know everything good that's happened." Pippin choked out.

Frodo had been watching the exchange silently, not wanting to intrude on his cousins, but he felt compelled to. "Pippin, you know Cousin Merry will tell you everything- and Sam and I will tell you things, too." So saying, Frodo reached out with his good arm and stroked Pippin's sock-covered foot.

"That's right, Master Pippin. With the three of us helping you, there won't be anything to worry about."

Pippin smiled through his tears. "Th-thanks Sam." he said, and laid his hand on the gardener's arm. "You'll have to tell me about every single mushroom and carrot Merry and I lifted from Bag End's gardens! I know you remember every travesty!"

Frodo roared with laughter, then held his arm up, and said, "Come here, you!" Pippin dived gratefully into Frodo's embrace, though was careful not to jostle him. Breathing in his little cousin's scent, Frodo snuggled a now giggling Pippin close. "You goose," he murmured into the cinnamon curls. "You would want to know every single trick and prank you and Merry have pulled." Pippin grinned up Frodo.

"Of course, Frodo-dear. How else would I make sure I didn't repeat one?" Pippin quickly ducked his head to avoid a good natured swat. Breathing heavily, Frodo and Pippin were still for a long moment, savouring the feeling of love and togetherness as only hobbits can.

"Frodo?" Pippin's quiet query was further muffled by Frodo's arm that was thrown protectively over Pippin.

"Yes, Goose?"

"Do- do you think we could get started a little early, maybe?"

Frodo frowned in confusion. "Early for what, Pip?"

Pippin squirmed into Frodo a little tighter. "Early for remembering. Tell me a memory, Frodo." Frodo smiled sadly and planted a kiss on Pippin's forehead.

"All right Pippin. Hmmm...let's see, which memory should I tell?" He asked putting on an exaggeratedly thoughtful face. "I know- how about that one summer day when you and Merry decided that Aunt Lobelia's chickens were looking peaked, and decided to feed them some of Bilbo's best seed cake?"

Merry groaned. "Frodo- I'm sure Pip doesn't need to hear that one!"

Pippin giggled and reached out to where Merry was sitting, and grabbed his cousin's big toe. "You're just embarrassed because it was all your idea, Merry!" Then, turning back to Frodo, Pippin enthused, "Yes, Frodo! Tell it- tell me the memory."

"All right." Frodo sighed. "Once upon a time, there were two very, very naughty hobbit lads..." Frodo's voice floated on soothingly, telling Pippin about the happy times that seemed so long ago. Eventually, Frodo's voice became softer and quieter, as Pippin's eyelids drooped. Finally Frodo stopped when Pippin's breathing was deep and rhythmic in sleep. After a few minutes of stroking Pippin's hair, Frodo looked up at Merry and said, "Well?"

Stiffening, Merry replied, "Well, what?" although he had a hunch as to what Frodo was asking about.

"Merry, you know perfectly well 'what'. Tell us what happened to Pippin."

"You already heard what happened to him, Frodo." Merry countered.

"Yes, but we did not hear all of it. Merry," Frodo's voice took on a tinge of desperation. "My little cousin, whom I love very dearly, is about to be taken away from me. Now, I think you'll agree that I at least have the right to know what was so terrible that he can't stay with us."

Merry slumped in defeat, and passed his hand over his eyes. "It's just- I don't know if I can bear repeating it..." his voice breaking at the end, Merry began to weep softly. Suddenly a strong warm arm slipped around his shoulders, and he leaned against its solidness, his own strength deserting him.

"There, there Mr. Merry," said Sam softly. "You just get your thoughts in order, we'll wait." In truth, despite his calm demeanour, Sam was anxious that he was stepping quite beyond the bounds of proper behaviour, but seeing Mr. Merry in such a state worried him more.

"Thank you, Sam." Merry said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. After taking a few deep breaths, he began: "It all started when we were fleeing the mines, and Pip lagged behind..." 

***********************************************************************************************************

"Milady," Aragorn touched his brow and his heart with a slight bow of the head as he greeted Galadriel, high up upon the elven flet. "We have come to bring you the perian's answer."

The first silver glimmer of evening moonlight trickled warily through the gold of the Mallorn leaves, the light and shadows flickering across the careworn faces of Aragorn and Boromir. Gimli and Legolas stood to the side of the _talan_, their heads hung down, unwilling to meet the searching, questioning eyes of the beautiful Lady of the Golden Wood.

"I know what it is he wishes," She smiled sadly. "I fear it is not the answer you would have desired, but that is sometimes the way of the world – to what purpose we may not know – but there will be a reason."

"I feel we have failed." Aragorn breathed the words, "That I have failed. I had hoped to let him see that he could live with what had happened, that it would make him stronger, but I could not."

"No more could I with my own child." Galadriel reminded him. "Dear Pippin has a great innocence and I thought his naïveté might have protected him, but alas, I fear it may be his undoing."

"At least his innocence will be restored." Legolas looked up and met the calm gaze, "Although the cost is great."

"Great indeed," Galadriel agreed, "But then so is his little heart, he is strong for all he seems so weak. As are all the periain. They have a nobility and innocence that is a rare and wonderful combination. I have not encountered such in any other species."

"But Frodo is weakened now, from his encounter with the Gollum creature." The problem had been worrying at Aragorn throughout his concern over Pippin. "We have still to decide if he will recover enough to continue." The ranger furrowed his brow, "How long Milady, will Pippin take before he is able to continue the journey?"

"I do not think that the little one will reach the maturity needed to continue on the Quest if he undergoes this loss of memory," Galadriel explained gently. "It will take several months to teach him even enough that he may walk and talk and behave as an adult again."

"Then if Frodo is unable to go on we shall have to take Merry and Sam." Boromir shook his head in dismay. "I know enough of the hobbits to realise that will be a dreadful wrench for all of them. Do you think Merry will find it in himself to leave Pippin at such a time and what of Sam? Can he leave his master's side? It would be hard for him even if Frodo were well, but now that he is ill, Sam may find leaving him next to impossible."

"You do them too little credit, my Lord Boromir," Galadriel smiled sadly. "Think of all they have already left behind them. Halflings rarely, if ever, even leave the confines of the Shire and yet these four have journeyed league upon league, through danger, sorrow and hardship for the sake of the Quest. Do you think that any one of them would abandon their duty or fail the Quest now, for personal considerations?"

"No, Milady." Boromir bowed his head respectfully. "I should know better. They are made of sterner stuff and I should not disregard their nobility and honour in such matters. I beg forgiveness."

"Which I am sure the periain would gladly bestow." Galadriel paused for a moment, then continued carefully. "Also, pertaining to this matter, I know the hour is late and you have all had a trying time, but I think it is important that you explain to Meriadoc exactly what may be asked of him."

"I had hoped to spare him further distress today," Aragorn sighed. "But it seems unreasonable for us to discuss what may be asked of him without his knowledge. Of course none of us can or would compel him to become the Ringbearer, but the Lady Galadriel offers wise counsel, we should at least tell him of the possibility."

***********************************************************************************************************

TBC

**Author's notes:** Just a quick announcement to let you all know that I have started on another fic, called "**_Hubris_**" which can be found on my website at this url: http:**www.geocities.com*barngoddess110*hubris_main.html _(substitute * with slashes – ff.net strips them out of postings.)_

Shirebound: Okay, Frodo and Sam next time... you promise!  
Llinos: Happy now? Oh you want more do you? Kooks!!  
Kookaburra: *le sigh* all right, all right! But there's not much more- that elven wine is good for driving away the Blues!

Pearl Took: But do it, if it is the only way for him to truly be Pippin Took again.  
Llinos: Glad you see it that way – see it does have a positive side.

Blue Jedi Hobbit: And now I have to wait for the update...   
Llinos: and another… and another… and, well perhaps we'll be further on next time.

Hel: Hey, you are still alive and writing...  
Llinos: Well, I wouldn't go that far! I'm alive I think – how about you Kooks?  
Kookaburra: I dunno- I think all the packing I'm doing for college has killed me!

TTTurtle: One question...don't you think that it would have been easier for poor Pip if it was only Merry and Aragorn present?  
Llinos: Kooks has to answer this as it's her plot bunny – and no blaming Marigold!  
Kookaburra: Yes, but then it wouldn't be as angsssty for poor little Pippin.

Camillia Gamgee-Took: *kisses Pippin on the brow repeatedly*  
Llinos: Careful with him! He's not been well y'know! Have you got him the right way up? Oh yes, okay, just be careful.  
Kookaburra: *lets Camilia G-T kiss Pip on the head, and kisses him in naughtier places*

Pipkin Sweetgrass: I was raised by wolves in the urine swamps of Hell.  
Llinos: I **_knew_** I'd seen you somewhere before!

QTPie: Please don't leave us hanging like this for too terribly long.  
Llinos: Sorry, but we have to torture readers as well as characters! Fair's fair!  
Kookaburra: I would think you'd have figured out that torture is our specialty by now. :-)

Jukia: I'm sorry LLinos. *hugs LLinos* Better?  
Llinos: That's all right – I just get twitchy when folk forget I'm writing here. But thanks for the hug – can never get enough of those babies!

Coriandra: he's still going have the physical scars. I wonder how they're going to explain that to him.  
Llinos: Since he won't know anything – they can pretty much tell him whatever they want.  
Kookaburra: Yep – brainwashing is really the only way to go in these tough cases.

Gayalondiel: snips very flattering review that modesty prevents us from repeating  
Llinos: Wow, thank you Gaya! Blushes

Assena: Merry will always know, and he'll never be able to talk about it and it'll break his heart.  
Llinos: No one ever said things would be easy for Merry! sad face

:): there is too much yet to be resolved!

Llinos: You could be so right! We'd better get a move on Kooks!  
Kookaburra: Arrgh! No! I'm too lazy to move on. :-)

Rohi: Is your author pin name Llinos or what?  
Llinos: Yes – it's Llinos – but this is posted under Kookaburra's name because she started it and I joined later. We now write it jointly.

Rohi: I wanted to see if you have written any thing else...other then Recaptured...that one is a little too sad, and freaky, and...well...yah.  
Llinos: Sorry you don't like Recaptured, it is the other main thing I've written although there are some spin off stories from it.  
Kookaburra: You really should try her very adorable stories, "Big Enough to Be Thain", and "A Partnership in Villainy".

HMP: Boromir seems to have seen everything, hasn't he?  
Llinos: Yup!  
Kookaburra: I've always seen Boromir as the most worldly-wise member of the Fellowship (other than Gandalf). I mean, he's been a soldier all of his life, and has been raised in a city that's always on the brink of war, so he's bound to have seen the most nasty things.


	40. Changed

Moria's Revenge  
Chapter 40 - Changed

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta: Marigold

"Pippin? Pip? Can you talk to me?" Merry looked down at his little cousin lying sprawled on the big bed. The hobbit kicked his legs a little and rolled his head from side to side as if he were looking for something. Merry held out his hand to Pippin and a flailing little fist caught hold of his finger and, holding it tightly, drew it to his mouth. 

"Pip? You don't want to suck on my finger." Merry gently tried to pull his digit away from his cousin, but the little one held on tightly, reminding Merry of when Pip was a baby and would clutch his finger tenaciously.

Merry looked up at Aragorn, "He is really back at his beginnings, I didn't think he would be as a newborn, but that's what he is. How long do you think it will be before he knows me again, Strider?" The hobbit tickled Pippin under the arm, a trick Merry remembered from before, making his cousin squeal with laughter. 

"I don't know Merry," Aragorn placed a comforting hand on the slumped shoulder. "The Lady Galadriel said he would learn fast. But for now we must care for him as if he were an infant."

"It's just so undignified." Merry sat next to Pip on the bed and lifted him up by the shoulders. He tried to balance him upright in a sitting position but he fell back into Merry's arms and his head lolled against the older one's chest. "But I have to take care of him, poor my Pip." Merry planted a kiss on the shorn curls. Pip's shortened hair added to the babyishness of his look, reminding Merry even more of helpless infant Pippin, except that this 'baby' was still grown-up Pippin's size and still bore the injuries and physical hurts of the mature hobbit.

"Well you could start now," Aragorn suggested. "I expect he needs feeding and the more you say and sing to him the sooner he will learn to talk."

"Come on then, Pip!" Merry bolstered Pippin up with some pillows then clambered off the bed to patter across the room and fetch a bowl, which he filled with porridge from the larger porringer that had been left for him. He climbed a chair to help himself back up onto the bed with his burden, then, setting the bowl down, aimed a spoonful of porridge at Pippin's mouth.

Just as the spoon reached Pippin, he closed his mouth firmly and Merry managed to tip most of the porridge down his cousin's face. Fortunately it was not hot and did not bother Pippin, who merely licked at the mess round his face. Merry sighed and put the spoon back in the bowl and turned to pick up a flannel to wipe up the spillage. But now Pippin had tasted the food, he wanted some more and made a grab for the bowl and spoon.

His flailing fist landed squarely in the bowl and splashed porridge all over the bed and, oblivious of the mess, he rammed his knuckles into his mouth and sucked happily, dipping in for another refill before Merry could stop him.

"Pip! You're making a mess! Stop trying to eat with your hands!" Merry pulled the bowl away and simultaneously tried to mop up the spillage both off Pippin and the bed. 

Pippin, angry that the food had vanished and irritable at the fussing of the cloth, started to wail loudly, his cries hitching with passion at being thwarted in his attempts to get what he wanted.

Deilen and Aragorn took pity on Merry and the elf quickly and efficiently cleaned the wailing hobbit so the ranger could lift him up and cuddle him closely, rocking him to and fro on his shoulder until the angry bawling subsided.

Merry slid down from the bed and stood brushing himself off with a cloth, cleaning off the splashes of porridge. "I can't do this Strider," his voice quavered. "I'm not cut out to be a nursemaid. I don't know Pip any more and he doesn't know me."

"So you're giving up with him?" Aragorn patted the howling hobbit on the back and jiggled him up and down a little. "I thought you were made of sterner stuff Meriadoc!"

"No," Merry sniffed, "I'm sorry, of course I'm not giving up. It's just a bit of porridge, I shouldn't get so upset."

"But it is not just the mess, is it?" Aragorn put the now quiet Pip in Deilen's lap and the healer deftly wrapped Pippin round with a wide cloth, trapping his arms inside and, holding him with one arm, fed him the porridge quickly and without spills. "You're as distressed as if Pip had died." The ranger took Merry's hands in his as he knelt down to look steadfastly into the hobbit's eyes, lifting his chin with a finger so that Merry would meet his gaze. "You're grieving Merry, I understand that, but do you?"

"Yes, I think so." Merry went over to where Pippin was guzzling down porridge as fast as Deilen could spoon it and stroked his cousin's face gently. Pippin looked up at him with interest and smiled, but it was not a smile of recognition. It was a smile of a baby to a face, any face, unknowing and with no memories. But that was the point though, Merry thought sadly.

"He chose for the best Strider and I won't love him any less." Merry looked back at the ranger. "I cannot judge his decision. No matter how hard I try, it is impossible for me to imagine what it was he went through nor if I could have lived with those memories. I just… I just…" Merry could not say what was in his heart, it still hurt too much.

"You just hoped that he loved you enough to chose you and not the release from the memory." Aragorn came and put his hand on Merry's shoulder. "Don't doubt that he loved you, Merry or that he will again. I think he also chose what he did to release you from the burden of his memories too. There was one last thing that he could not bring himself to tell you, he did not want you to suffer his hurt." Aragorn held Merry's hand now and placed his other hand on Pippin's head as if to reunite them. "You see Merry, it was because he loved you so much that he chose what he did, to spare you, not to escape you."

"Oh Strider," Merry felt the tears coursing down his cheek but made no move to dry them. "I would have endured it, he should have let me, he should have known."

"I know, I know." Aragorn pulled Merry into a hug and let him sob. Deilen shook his head sadly at the ranger who drew his lips to a thin line and sighed deeply.

***********************************************************************************************************

Over the next few days Pippin learnt to say "dog-dog" when Icicle came near and "num-um" when it was time to eat and "bye-byes" for sleep time. Deilen he called "Da-da", much to the elf's embarrassment and Melystra he called, "Mamma", which the lady laughed at sweetly and would kiss the hobbit on the nose as if he were her child. 

But the most important thing Pippin learned to say was "Mer-mer". It delighted his cousin immensely. He spent nearly every waking hour with Pippin and quite a few non-waking hours too and lavished more love and care on the helpless little creature than anyone else.

The only thing they ever fought over was the spoon! Merry tried to feed Pippin, but the "baby" hobbit wanted to hold the spoon himself. This would not have mattered so much but Pippin would not content himself with transferring food from bowl to mouth, he would also bang the spoon down in the food, splashing it about and miss his mouth, spilling the contents of the spoon all over his clean clothes or try to put the spoon in Merry's mouth instead as if he thought his cousin needed feeding more than he did. Deprived of the spoon he would plunge his hands into the food or wail with a temper tantrum. 

Merry's solution was to have two spoons. One he would use to feed Pip with and the other Pip would hold and wave about, hit Merry with and put in his mouth occasionally. If he tried to dip it into the food, Merry would quickly put a little from his spoon onto Pip's spoon. 

Eventually they moved on to spoon sharing and they would both hold the same spoon and Merry would be allowed to put a spoonful in Pippin's mouth as long as they could then put a spoonful in Merry's mouth.

All of this was dreadfully poignant for Merry as it was exactly how his dear little cousin had behaved when he really was a baby the first time around. 

After a week of spoon wrestling Pippin had become competent enough with the cutlery to feed himself. "Melystra look!" Merry pointed with unaccustomed delight at his little cousin, sat in a chair on a cushion at a table and fairly neatly eating cut up pieces of cheese with a fork although sometimes he used his fingers. 

"That's excellent Merry," Melystra returned the smile, "he is making much faster progress than I thought he would. Why don't you try teaching him some more words? Did you ever sing him nursery songs when he was little?"

"Oh yes!" Merry frowned as he ran through the catalogue of various songs and rhymes he had sung to or with Pippin over the years. "Um a baby one though?"

"Yes," Melystra explained, "Nursery songs and lullabies have simple vocabulary and they teach children to speak, so it should work as well for Pippin, especially if it is one from before that he liked."

"There was one in particular." Merry hummed a little trying to remember the exact tune. "Cousin Bilbo wrote it for us, it was about Pip and me because we were always together – Pippin used to love it."

"That sounds perfect," Melystra wiped Pippin hands and face and lifted him down from the table. He had not yet mastered walking, possibly because it was difficult for him in any case due to his injuries. She sat him gently down on the floor, propped up with some cushions. Merry sat opposite and held Pippin's hands in his, clapping them together the way he had when Bilbo had taught him the nursery rhyme. Pippin had been able to sing the whole song before, but he had started when he was very little with joining in with the last words on some of the lines when they were easy or he just liked the sound.

Merry began to sing their special song that Bilbo had written just for them and he grew more and more excited as Pip was singing along just as he had when he was a baby:-

"Little Pip and Merry  
Have hippity hobbity **_feet_**,  
Little fat, round tummies,  
And never enough to **_eat_**.  
Their ears are sharp and pointy,  
On their heads they've curly **_hair_**,  
Turned up noses, turned down toeses  
And they come as a **_pair_**!  
  
Little Pip and Merry  
Went to catch a **_fish_**,  
But all they had to put it in  
Was a big pie **_dish_**.  
They lifted up the pie crust  
and laid the fish upon it,  
But with a shout, the fish jumped out,  
With a piecrust **_bonnet_**!  
  
Little Pip and Merry  
Went to the summer fair,  
But all they had to ride upon  
Was a pony **_mare_**.  
They saddled up the pony  
With the Thain's best **_shirt_**  
She gave a prance and began to dance,  
In her pretty pony **_skirt_**!  
  
Little Pip and Merry  
Went to buy a **_bun_**  
But when they counted out their pence  
All they had was **_none_**.  
They smiled nicely at the baker  
And said "Good Morning," twice  
He said "Good Day, now go **_away_**,"  
Which was very good advice.  
  
Little Pip and Merry  
Tried to sing this song,  
But when they jumbled up the words,  
The song came out all **_wrong_**.  
The sounds all tasted **_funny_**,  
And the rhymes all smelled of **_cheese_**,  
They couldn't recall, the tune at all,  
And then it made them **_sneeze_**!  
  
Atishoo! **_Atishoo_**! Ah-Tish-**_Shooo_**!

The last pretend sneeze made Pippin fall over backward, laughing with utter glee. Merry leapt after him, heedless of his injuries in his moment of joy. "Pip! My love, Pip you remembered! How did you remember? I thought you would forget everything!"

"Oh my Mer!" Pippin squealed in answer. "How could I forget you Silly-Billy?" Pippin giggled delightedly at the name-calling, "Merry Berry!" and then "Very hairy Merry!" He added for good measure.

***********************************************************************************************************

"Merry, Merry!" Aragorn hissed the name, trying not to wake Pippin who was sleeping comfortably, curled up beside Frodo. 

Merry woke with a start, clawing at the bedcover in panic – his dream of Pippin as a baby dissipating too slowly and the tension and fatigue making him nervous and jumpy. "What is it Aragorn?"

"Could I speak with you for a moment please?" Aragorn saw that Frodo and Sam looked very weary. Both appeared to have been shedding tears, although Merry seemed beyond weeping now, as if he had no more grief to spend – a great physical weight almost seemed to hang about his shoulders as he hugged Frodo, patted Sam on the shoulder, kissed the sleeping Pippin and climbed slowly down from the big bed.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Aragorn gently took Merry's wrist across the palm of his big hand and ran his fingers over the no longer taut bandage. "But I think perhaps this needs rebinding Merry, you've moved around quite a bit and loosened the wrapping."

"Oh," Merry was surprised; he had suspected Aragorn wanted to talk to him about Pip. "It's not so painful now, I'm sure it will be all right."

"Come along, no arguing," Aragorn led him by his good wrist to the room where Silael kept the bandages and other healing paraphernalia. "Besides, I do want to talk to you – on your own." 

Merry climbed into the too tall chair and obediently held out his wrist so that Aragorn could unwrap the bandage. In spite of the fact that he had claimed it was all right, the ranger could not help but notice the hobbit silently flinching several times as he rebound the sprain. The man felt somewhat guilty at this, since he did not really think the bandage was that loose, but he wanted to get Merry quietly on his own.

"What did you want to talk about?" Merry had grown curious as Aragorn tended his wrist in silence. "Is it about Pip?"

"Not exactly." Aragorn tied off the bandage and drew up a chair to sit next to Merry. "It's about you and the Quest." Merry lifted his head and looked up at the ranger expectantly but said nothing. "That is, about what may have to happen next in order to fulfil the Quest and the role you may have to play in that."

"I have to look after Pip." Merry said flatly. At the moment Pippin had filled his whole world, Merry had been severely traumatised by all that had taken place and Aragorn knew this. It did not make what he had to say any easier.

"You may have to leave him for others to take care of…"

"But I…"

"No, Merry," Aragorn lifted up his hand for the hobbit's silence, "hear what I have to say to you." Merry closed his mouth and clenched the fist of his good hand and drew a deep breath. "I know that Pippin has been your consuming concern since he was hurt, and I know you feel very responsible and guilty for what happened. I am not necessarily agreeing that those feelings are correct, but I know that's what you feel." Aragorn paused to let the hobbit absorb this. "But regardless of your feelings of guilt over Pippin, there is still the Quest to be completed and the whole fate of Middle-earth rests upon the outcome of that. It doesn't just affect Pippin, but everyone you know and love and many more besides."

"Yes, Aragorn I see that…" Merry opened his mouth to say more, but Aragorn interrupted him.

"I'm glad that you do," the man smiled a little. He could feel tension rising between them and he did not want this to develop into an argument. "If, and it is by no means certain, but if by any chance Frodo is not recovered enough in a week or so to continue the journey then, it has been decided that you should continue as Ringbearer."

Merry was silent.

***********************************************************************************************************

Pippin stirred in his sleep, uneasy for a reason he could not place. As he shifted back, instead of the warm solid mass of Merry, he encountered empty space. Immediately his eyes opened, and he lifted his head. He had a moment of sheer panic when he realized Merry was gone, but it was replaced by relief when he noticed Frodo and Sam slumbering peacefully on the bed with him. That was all right then – Merry had not left him completely alone. Thus reassured, Pippin crawled the short distance to Frodo's side and burrowed in. Unfortunately, he moved in a bit too enthusiastically, and his wriggling awakened Frodo.

"Mmm?" Frodo murmured sleepily, cracking open one eye and looking at Pippin. "What are you doing, Pip?"

"I'm sorry, Frodo!" Pippin exclaimed, "I didn't mean to wake you, only Merry's gone and…" At Pippin's louder voice, however, Sam lifted his head, blinking owlishly. "…and now I've woken Sam! I'm really very sorry Frodo." Pippin accentuated his repentant words with large, innocent eyes – something he had found very useful in getting himself out of trouble and into good graces, although now it was more by force of habit for he knew Frodo would not scold him since… since everything that had happened.

"No need to fret now, Mr Pippin, I wasn't planning on sleeping anyhow, I must have nodded off." Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes. "How are you feeling, Mr Frodo? Is your shoulder bothering you still?"

"Yes, but not as much as before, Sam don't look so concerned." Frodo replied, then deftly changed the subject. "And how's my little Pip?" he whispered gently.

"I suppose I'm doing well…" Pippin was not sure whether to comment about how his body felt or his thoughts. He had had the usual bad dreams whilst dozing, but had learned to control himself sufficiently upon waking up from them that his companions remained oblivious.

"Of course you are my sweet." Frodo did not believe that for a moment, but humoured his cousin anyway. He was about to hoist himself into a sitting position but was stayed by Sam's hand when the door slowly creaked open and Merry peeked in.

"I see I needn't have worried about waking you three up!" Merry said, but his light tone sounded forced.

"Oh, no - Pippin saw to that!" Frodo smiled, hugging Pippin slightly.

"Frodo, I said I was sorry!" Pippin worried that perhaps his cousin was put out that his sleep had been interrupted. 

Merry padded over and hoisted himself up onto the counterpane, only to immediately be bowled over by an overly enthusiastic hug from Pippin.

"Easy, easy there Pip – careful of your stitches." Pippin merely rolled his eyes at Merry's fussing. Smiling sadly, wondering how long those expressions would still be his to cherish, Merry lifted a hand and gently cupped Pippin's face, stroking the cheek with his thumb.

Smiling, Pippin reached up and mirrored Merry's actions, stopping only when he noticed Merry's eyes brimming with tears. "Merry! What's wrong? Are you hurt? Tell me, please!" Pippin pleaded as he grabbed Merry's hands in supplication. Merry breathed heavily for several moments before he answered.

"Pippin, I've just had a talk with Strider, about – about the Quest." Merry was about to continue, when Frodo interrupted.

"I think I can guess what it's about then." he said sharply, "And I'd prefer it if you did not talk about it in my presence. It's bad enough that Strider sees fit to try and keep me out of the matter altogether."

"Frodo," Merry said softly, his eyes lowered, "I swear, I don't want…"

"It doesn't seem to matter what we Hobbits want, does it? Or what I want, for that matter. It seems that everyone has been consulted except me!" Pippin looked back and forth between Merry and Frodo, confused and somewhat frightened as his two favourite people seemed to be fighting.

"I -I just need to let Pippin know that I might not be here…" Now Pippin interrupted him.

"What? Merry, what do you mean you might not be here? Where are you going?"

Frodo answered before Merry. "Aragorn thinks that Merry might be going on a very long journey. Something Merry will tell you all about outside.

"All right, Frodo, you've made your point." Merry did not feel up to arguing with a clearly unreasonable Frodo. "Come, Pip. Let's go out." Merry slid off the bed and helped Pippin to do the same. Pippin followed him mutely out the door, glancing back at Frodo all the while. When they reached the common room, Merry guided Pippin over to a daybed set up next to the wall.

"Merry, what was that about? Why is Frodo mad with us?" Pippin clutched Merry's sleeve, desperate to know if something he had done had caused the debacle. Merry calmly removed Pippin's hand, and instead held both of Pippin's hands between his own.

"Frodo isn't cross with us, Pip, he's more angry with himself." he took a deep breath and went on. "You see, he's still hurt, but he knows the Quest has to go on, even if he can't continue." Pippin seemed to think about that for a moment.

"B-but if Frodo can't go on, what's going to happen to the Ring, Merry? Will someone else have to carry it?" Merry nodded. "Oh…" Pippin bowed his head and looked down. "I can see how that would make Frodo frustrated. He always did hate having to stay behind when he was sick, and he's going to be so lonely when Sam leaves…" Merry cleared his throat.

"Sam's not leaving him, Pippin." Pippin looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"He's not? But then who is it? Gandalf said the Big Folk couldn't do it- it has to be a hobbit. And I can't do it, so that means…" Pippin's head snapped up and he looked into Merry's eyes, silently asking the horrible question. When he saw the confirmation in his cousin's eyes, a look of complete betrayal manifested on Pippin's face. Merry could not meet the accusing eyes, and dropped his head in resignation.

"Pip, I'm sorry, I really am-"

"B-b-but you can't go, Merry! I need you! You said you'd stay! You promised you'd stay!" Pippin jerked back in an attempt at releasing his hands and himself from Merry's clasp. "You promised! You promised…" Pippin tried to pull away in his growing hysteria.

"Pippin, Pippin," Merry tried to keep his voice down, hoping to calm his cousin. "I'm so sorry, I don't want to leave you, I don't want to, shh…" When Pippin finished his struggle, he sagged exhausted against Merry's chest, sobbing incoherently and tearlessly.

"M-merry, if you can't stay, wh-what's going to happen when I forget? What if I never remember you an- and you don't come back?" A darting cold traced down Merry's spine as he thought about that – thought about dying far from home, family and Pippin.

"You will be taken care of, Pip." Merry said, as much to reassure himself of that fact as Pippin. "Promsis!"

***********************************************************************************************************

TBC

***********************************************************************************************************

Author's Notes

Llinos: Personally I blame Kookaburra (partly because it makes a change from blaming Marigold but mainly because it's mostly her fault!) I wrote my bit yonks ago – so no smacking Llinos this trip. But I think Kooks has been up to her 'ocksters in University and other unimportant real life stuff. 

I, on the other hand, actually have no life – so am able to claim virtuously prompt updating of story. (VBG!)

Kookaburra: I will admit, I am the sole reason the chapter is late- but I tried to get it done, honest! It's just hard to find time to write hobbitsmut when a roomie is looking over your shoulder every few minutes...

Okay – enough revelations, blamings and confessions, onwards to the Q&A:- 

Rohi: I SHALL STRANGLE YOU IF YOU DON'T WRITE THE NEXT CHAPTER!! Come on, guys, you can't just stop!! It's been like 3 months!  
Llinos: I'm so sorry, time just flies when you're having fun! I get caught up with other projects. Also you can always go and read Kooks and my RPG on Lord of the Slashed – Kooks plays Sam and I play Captain Nagash the Orc and Merry. Our good friend Tasha plays Pippin. Then there's Recaptured as well (Shameless Self Promotion)! But the next chapter will be quicker – I hope since I'm highly allergic to being strangled!

Rohi: I will, Promise. Recaptured was too sad for me to read,  
Llinos: Actually, Recaptured isn't as sad as this – honest! (fingers crossed behind back, desperately trying to remember which story is the saddest?)

Butterflygurl: thinks about glomping Pippin...decides against as it may aggravate wounds  
Llinos: Oh I don't know – glomp away – I'm sure he can stand it after all he's been through.  
Kookaburra: You might have to wrestle him away from me, though. :)

Jedi Hobbit Master (AmberLoony15@aol.com): update damn it update!  
Llinos: Okay, okay!  
Kookaburra: Your wish is our command!

Coriandra: I hope we find out in the next chapter.  
Llinos: Um – well, sorry not quite, nothing is decided yet.  
Kookaburra: It was supposed to be, but eh- these things just don't cooperate.

Periadoc: Isn't it ironic (and this is probably because you're working with Llinos, which is cool!) that Merry and Pip's innocence saved them from the Witchking, but in this story Pip's innocence wasn't enough...oh sadness!   
Llinos: An interesting parallel. I suppose the situations are rather different though – the orcs took Pippin's body, whereas the Witchking only wanted their minds – well the contents of their minds – that is where innocent can work to your advantage!

Assena: It's always Merry who has to carry both their cares on his own shoulders. I don't know why, but it makes me sad.  
Llinos: Me too. Poor Merry. Merry has always been my favourite character. Don't mean to be mean to him – but, like Sam, his shoulders are broad and he can take it – just.  
Kookaburra: However, you've just given me a plot bunny. Hmmm.;-)

Hel: But I think he doesn't imagine all the consequences that he is like a baby after the procedure and must learn everything again like walking and talking and other things.  
Llinos: No he doesn't – but Merry is beginning to.

Jukia Wolfcall: *does a little dance of joy* *ducks from random falling objects*  
Llinos: Oh be careful my dear – Kooks and I would hate to see anyone get hurt in this fic!

Baylor: Sam comforting Merry was an especially nice touch.  
Llinos: Ah the strong, tenacious types that they both are!

Pipkin Sweetgrass: You might be shocked at how real your story is.  
Llinos: No – I'm too world-weary to be shocked by anything anymore – sadly.  
Kookaburra: Well, when I started out I tried to make it as realistic as possible *eyes various books on the history of torture lining her shelves*

Noriel: I want to thank you both for this story.  
Llinos: Ah – thanks. I go all gooey when people remember both of us :-)!

QTPie: Now I'm not so sure. I'm at a loss.  
Llinos: Oh we like to keep you on your toes – and still the amply proportioned lady hasn't sung!

sam (camilliatook@hotmail.com) : Pippin is not allowed to pick forgetting. I won't allow it. Surely Marigold will agree with me, right?  
Llinos: Oh no! Don't get Marigold to agree with you! Now I'm scared!

:) : He can live with it! Right?  
Llinos: Ah the burning question – can he or can't he! If he can't how will everyone cope and if he can – how will he cope?

Camellia Gamgee-Took: Please say that Pippin will find the courage to tell Merry about the horrid incident!  
Llinos: Oh that's asking way too much!

Samwise the Strong: Thanks for the good read.  
Llinos: Thank you for the nice review!

Blue Jedi Hobbit: and my Sims call to me...  
Llinos: Why what have you been up to? Oh Sims! I thought you said Sins!

Pearl Took: For obvious reasons, I don't trust you two!  
Llinos: I can't imagine what you mean! (indignant snort):   
Kookaburra: *whistles innocently*


	41. Dejected

Moria's Revenge  
Chapter 41 – Dejected

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta & Additional Material: Marigold

Wiping his sleeve across his face to catch the tears before they fell, Merry slid down the bed and left Pippin finally sleeping restlessly. It had taken a long time to soothe his cousin's fears, but poor, hurt Pip had succumbed to a fretful sleep still mumbling that Merry could not desert him, not when he needed him so. For Merry no sleep or peace came. He resolved to find Aragorn. He had not argued when the Ranger had declared that he must continue with the Quest if Frodo could not and that, he, Meriadoc, should become the Ring-bearer. Aragorn had not given him the chance. 

Of course Merry feared the task, but he would not wish to shirk it, but to leave Pippin, the precious cousin that he loved so dearly, especially when he still felt responsible for his injuries! If only he had taken better care of Pippin when he should have, none of this would have occurred – Frodo would not even have been injured. Everything was his fault and that fact punished him day and night. Now even Pippin was punishing him for it – as well he might. 

Merry hoped that Aragorn would not be too far away, he felt very nervous about traversing the steep flet steps once more. He had not done so since his near fatal fall and the prospect of climbing down again was daunting. "Courage Meriadoc!" He bit his lip and muttered under his breath. "Do not fear such a small thing – with all that lies ahead of you." Treading on one step at a time and staying in the centre, as he could not reach the handrail, he carefully and laboriously made his way to the ground.

Aragorn saw Merry, pale-faced and shaky, just as he neared the bottom of the flight and went to meet him. "Merry – what are you doing down here?" The ranger reached out his hand and helped the nervous hobbit down the last few steps. "Although I am glad that you have managed to climb down on your own so soon. I was worried that you might have been unnerved by your fall."

"No Aragorn," Merry gulped a little at the slight untruth. "I was just being careful, I wasn't afraid – really."

"Merry, I would not blame you for being anxious after such a fall as you took." Aragorn bent and held Merry by the shoulders, looking questioningly into the sad, blue eyes. "Are you all right?"

"I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." Merry began. "That's why I came down."

"Well come and sit by me for a while and tell me what's bothering you." Aragorn led the way to a low bench that was a little awkward for him, but just right for the hobbit. "Is it about the Quest?"

Merry nodded, "Aragorn, I can't go – I can't leave Pippin, you mustn't ask me to do that."

"Merry, Merry…" The Ranger had been expecting such a plea, partly from the look on Merry's face, but mostly because he knew well by now the bond between the two. "I would not ask this – no demand this – of you, if there were any choice, you must realise that."

"But why? Why must it be me? Why not Sam? With… with perhaps another hobbit, maybe from Bree… or…" Merry broke off as he realised he was clutching at straws, there was no real solution. "It's just that Frodo resents me already, he doesn't want to give the Ring to me and Pippin is heartbroken that I might have to leave him, just when he needs me so."

"I know it's difficult Merry," Aragorn grimaced with trepidation at what he was going to have to say, "but it is your duty, not only as cousin and kin to both Frodo and Bilbo, but as the future Master of Buckland." The Ranger could see he had hit a nerve. "Merry you were born a leader – one day you will inherit your father's title and position – such things carry a responsibility with them." The man paused to let this sink in and then added in a kinder tone, "I had already planned to send Sam with you – did you not know?"

"No," Merry looked a little more hopeful at this, "but could he not take the Ring? Why must it be me?"

"Even if Sam were to take the Ring," Aragorn sighed, now becoming a little impatient, "you would still have to go with him."

"Why me?" Merry persisted. "He will still have all of you to protect and guard him. I know we lost Gandalf, but you and Boromir alone are enough to look after Sam, to say nothing of Legolas and Gimli! What difference would I make?"

"You are of his kind, Merry." Aragorn took Merry's small hand in his and turned it over palm upwards, gently tracing his large fingers across the little ones he held. "You are of his hand and his heart, Merry. The task will be daunting enough as it is. Don't you think you owe it to all hobbits and to the Shire to take the Ring?"

"Frodo offered willingly because he had no other course," Merry looked down at their hands, too embarrassed to meet Aragorn's gaze, guilty at his own reticence to do what he was bid. "But Gandalf and Elrond did not force him into it. You are hardly even giving me a choice."

"I know Merry, and I wish it were otherwise." Aragorn folded Merry's hand over and clasped it shut. "Don't make this so difficult." The Ranger's voice rose as he spoke, "It is not yet even decided, but Frodo had the wit to recognise what had to be done and you should face your destiny with courage, as he did."

Merry shook his head and pulled his hand away from Aragorn. Without speaking again, but with his bottom lip trembling, he stood and backed away from the Ranger, then turned and ran. 

"Merry come back!" Aragorn ran a few paces after him, but at that moment Silael called from the base of the flet stairway.

"Master Estel! Could you spare me a moment?" The elf healer hurried over, "I need to talk to you about Frodo's progress. If he is to have any chance of continuing with the Quest he needs some firm counselling and I believe you are the right one to speak with him."

Aragorn glanced in the direction Merry had run, the hobbit had vanished from his sight. Choices – should he go after Merry or would it be better to speak with Frodo as soon as possible? The Quest was in balance and it would indeed be better all round if Frodo could continue. Merry would have to wait. Aragon turned to Silael. "Very well, I will come now."

***********************************************************************************************************

Feeling dejected and defeated, Merry went in search of Sam, to see if the steady hobbit could reassure him. At least he would not be alone on the Quest when they continued without Frodo and Pippin, Merry reasoned. Just thinking once more about leaving his cousins made Merry feel shaky and… well, out of control. His emotions were ricocheting between mindless rage at those who would separate them, and just wanting to curl up and cry.

'Steady there, Merry.' he reprimanded himself. 'This is no way for the son of the Master of Buckland to be acting.' He seated himself on a small bench set into an alcove by the kitchens. Sam often stopped there at this time of day, looking for something special for Frodo's second breakfast, a meal still often missed by elves. Merry sighed, resting his head in his hands, and breathing deeply, willing the stinging behind his eyes away.

"Mr Merry?" Sam's soft voice startled Merry. He wiped his eyes quickly, hoping his face and voice would not betray him.

"Hello Sam. It's good that you've come, I wanted to talk to you about something." Merry inwardly congratulated himself on being able to keep his voice even. "Come and sit with me."

"Well, I can't say I'd not like to sit and talk for a good long while, Mr Merry, but I just came down here to find some of those little white cakes for Mr Frodo…" Sam trailed off seeing the despairing look that crossed Merry's face at his words. "…but I'm sure he'll be fine for a moment." Settling himself next to Merry, he asked, "What is it that's troubling you?"

"Thank you Sam, I don't mean to keep you long, it's just, well, it has to do with the Quest, and what should happen if… if Frodo does not recover in time to continue to Mordor. I know that for the good of, well, everyone, I should go, and leave Pip behind. But I made a promise to him…" Merry's voice hitched and he fell silent.

"There, now, Mr Merry." Sam leaned over and put a bracing arm around Merry's shoulders. "You're not giving Mr Frodo enough credit. I know he's upset about this whole business, and it seems as if there's no perfect solution to this mess, but we'll make sure that Mr Pippin knows about you, and how much you love him." Merry looked up sharply at Sam's words.

"But, Sam, didn't Strider tell you? You're to come with me!" For a moment Merry panicked - right now the only way he could see being able to carry on was if steady Sam was at his side.

Sam jolted, looking at Merry with wide eyes. "What? No, that can't be right - I'm to stay here and look after Mr Frodo! I won't be leaving him!"

"Sam!" Merry grabbed onto Sam's braces desperately. "Please, I can't do this on my own, I need you – Frodo has the best care in Middle-earth here, but I can't possibly carry It without you beside me; you know Frodo would never have come this far without you!"

"No!" Sam said vehemently, and as he stood up, shoved Merry back down onto the bench. "Mr Strider didn't say nothing about leavin' to me! And even if he did, I'm not going to. You'll have him, and the others, Mr Merry, and if they aren't enough of an escort for you…well…well… that still doesn't make it right for you to try and make me come with you without my say-so!" Shaking with rage, Samwise turned on his heel and pushed through the door to the kitchen, leaving it swinging energetically in his wake. Merry could only sit in shock.

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"Merry?"

Merry was so startled at the sudden voice behind him that he jumped to his feet with an undignified squeak and whirled around. Boromir was standing in the archway opposite the one Sam had just stormed through. "Oh, Boromir…"

"Is something the matter Merry? I thought I heard you and Sam having a disagreement. Is there any problem you'd like to talk about?"

Merry sank back down into his seat, debating with himself as to whether or not he should confide in Boromir. After all, how could he expect a man to understand a falling out amongst hobbits? "No Boromir, I'm fine, really." Putting on his bravest smile, Merry looked back up at Boromir.

"You're not being truthful with me, Merry." Boromir sat down next to him. "Now tell me what happened. We cannot have unresolved strife in our Fellowship."

Realising Boromir was right; Merry sighed and turned to face the man. If he was going to speak what was in his heart, he would do so with his head up, not bowed in shame. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you what is planned if Frodo does not heal by the time we are to leave. I was feeling… well… not so frightened about the Quest, but about leaving poor Pippin all alone!"

"You do not have to tell me how much the prospect of leaving Pippin scares you Merry." Boromir placed a comforting hand on Merry's shoulder. "I can see the pain in your eyes whenever the subject is mentioned."

Merry nodded, and continued. "I thought to speak with Sam about it – to plan ahead, and well… for some reassurance. I was truly very pleased to find that he will come with me, but no one had told him that he would be expected to! He became very angry, and said that he would never leave Frodo, and now both Frodo and Sam are cross with me, and Pippin's disappointed in me, and I- I- don't have anyone else, that is, any other hobbit to talk to about it!" he said the last in a breathless rush.

Boromir coughed a bit. "I am no hobbit, but I would have you let me offer counsel, and maybe some comfort, Merry. For I think perhaps right now you don't really need a fellow hobbit, but a friend." Merry nodded silently, waiting for Boromir to say his piece. "Perhaps Aragorn did not tell you, but there is another way, one that I have championed – and it would not require you to leave Pippin behind."

"That does sound nice, Boromir, but even if I'm cross with Strider at the moment, I know he would think through all the alternatives and pick the best one for…"

"But that is the problem," interrupted Boromir. "He did not consider it – barely had I proposed that we travel instead to Minas Tirith than he rejected it."

"Minas Tirith? How would that help Pippin?"

"We have had many casualties of war over the last decades – we are the ones, the people of Gondor, holding back the Darkness, not the elves! Our healers have many cures for ailments of the mind such as Pippin has suffered – after all, the elves lead a cloistered existence here, how can they know the pain Pippin has experienced?" A vague unease stirred in the pit of Merry's stomach. What Boromir was saying sounded reasonable, but something kept niggling at a corner of his mind, something that told him to be on his guard.

"And- and what would happen to the Quest?" Merry asked, slightly shifting his weight on the bench so as to be poised for flight. Why was he feeling this way? Boromir had been nothing but friendly towards Merry and protective towards Pippin – he would never suggest or do something that would harm either one of them!

Boromir leaned forward, a strange glint in his eye. "We need not destroy It – Elrond and the elves have too little faith in the strength of we mortals. At first I thought Frodo too weak to carry his burden, but now I know that is folly. Hobbits are made of stern stuff, do you think there is anything Frodo could not master?"

Merry was a bit disconcerted at the abrupt volte of the conversation. "Well, no – he's incredibly clever, and I've never known him to fail at any task he really worked at…"

"Never?"

Merry thought. "No, never – I've never thought of it before, but I think he's the only person I know who has never ultimately 'failed' at something. At least on subsequent tries." he added.

"Then why should this be different? Frodo could wield the Ring if he chose and my father, the Steward, will know just where and how to use it to greatest effectiveness. Let us show the elves that the strength of mortals is not something to be lightly discounted!"

Merry's mind was reeling. It was contrary to all that Gandalf and Strider had told them, yet, Gandalf was immortal, but even he had not survived the Balrog, Merry thought ruefully. And Strider had grown up among elves, and surely harboured sympathies to their way of thinking. Also Merry had to admit that it felt good to hear Boromir speaking of "we mortals". To know that a man that he looked up to held him in as high regard as he might a fellow-in-arms, made Merry swell with pride.

Boromir leaned in closer and clasped Merry's shoulder. "Just think, Frodo would be counted as a great warrior, and I would see that all four of you were outfitted with armour and raiment as befitting of your station." Merry looked up sharply.

"Frodo as a warrior? Boromir, now that is something I think he would fail at."

"You mean you think he would not like it. But sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the greater good, Merry, and…" but Merry barely heard him, suddenly an image of Frodo, standing tall (well, as tall as possible, anyway) and fierce in armour had leapt into his mind. But that image was not his Cousin Frodo, who laughed and loved to live. It was a cold, distant, terrible figure. Merry jumped to his feet. "…Merry, what's wrong?"

Stumbling backwards, away from the surprised man and towards the door, Merry answered shakily, "I-I'm sorry Boromir, it's just- you've given me quite a lot to think about, and – and – I really need to see to Pip!" With that, Merry whirled and ran out the door, wondering just when the Boromir who was his friend and mentor had turned into the man he had just left behind.

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Merry slowed his run to a walk. It was the second time in one day he had felt the need to run away from another member of the Fellowship and the thought made him sink further into the murky depths of despondency that were threatening to overwhelm him.

For a moment he considered going back up  to be with Pippin and the others, but suddenly the prospect was not an appealing one, it merely made him feel more sad and he did not think he could cope with talking to any of them without giving way to tears at the moment. Perhaps later, when he had gathered his thoughts and resolve together.

Gimli was just ahead of him, pulling Icicle along on a lead. The warg was always reluctant to leave the hobbits although she tolerated the dwarf, as he was the one who generally fed her.

"Gimli!" Merry was pleased to see someone with whom he could have an easy conversation and not have to worry about difficult choices for a little while. "Where are you going?"

"Well, as always, I'm exercising milady warg, although it's a thankless enough task" Gimli turned impatiently round, partly to look at Merry and partly to tug at Icicle who had sat down as soon as she heard the hobbit's voice. "No one will thank me and she doesn't want to come either."

"Is she always like this?" Merry caught up and buried his hands in Icicle's coat, snuggling his fingers into the warm fur on her front. "Why doesn't she like a walk?"

"Because she only wants to stay with young Pippin," Gimli explained, "But it's really time they were both getting used to be apart."

"Well sometimes certain people weren't meant to be apart – ever," Merry put his arms around Icicle's neck as she placed a large paw on his knee. "That's true of wargs too, maybe Pip and her are meant to be together."

"That's not the natural way of things." Gimli gave up tugging at the lead as Icicle was obviously not going to move away from Merry, "We have to learn to cope on our own at need."

"But where's the need?" Merry asked, "Pip has been through so much it's not fair to expect him to be without Icy now. Why should he?"

"Because he has to stand on his own feet eventually," Gimli joined Merry now in petting the great white animal, "if he's ever going to get better."

"It's too much Gimli!" Merry found himself filling with tears again. He had hoped this would be a respite from his troubles, but as problems will, they just seemed to follow him about. "Pip has suffered too much; I'm not sure he **_can_** recover, so why do we have to separate him from those who love him best? What does that prove and how does it help him?"

"Merry," Gimli was surprised at the outburst, he had thought the hobbit was just passing the time of day, "Pippin can get better I'm sure, but not if we keep mollycoddling him so. He has to face this trauma sooner or later. The dwarves have a saying for it, 'to delve deep, you must dig alone.' Pippin won't find his answers unless he finds them for himself."

"And what would you know about it!" Merry could feel his anger rising. "It's hard being a hobbit in a world of men and elves. You must see that Gimli, but at least the dwarves are used to these strange beings. Poor Pip had never met an elf before we left the Shire, let alone an orc! He led a sheltered and safe life, he has no idea how to cope with any of this. Why should he be alone? It's so unjust! It's… it's beyond reason!"

"Steady young fellow," Gimli put his hand on Merry's shoulder to calm him. "I daresay I'll take the warg back to him once she's had her dinner and exercise. No one's deserting him completely, I just meant it were time he was weaned if you see what I mean. The lass did a good job, but she's not his mother and he has to be done with that side of her now."

"Oh yes, I-I know," Merry felt his cheeks flare red. What exactly had he been arguing with the well-meaning dwarf about? Pippin was all but weaned from Icicle now and it was right and proper that he should be. He suddenly realised that he was really arguing for himself to stay at Pippin's side, not for Icicle to always remain there. But perhaps Gimli was right, perhaps Pip did need to stand alone and be brave. The thought suddenly struck Merry with a dull impact, was it he, Pip's own cousin, who was so blind, he was holding Pippin's recovery back? 

"I'm s-sorry Gimli, I didn't mean…" Merry stood up as he spoke and began backing away, "I j-just seem to keep getting everything wrong…" 

Before the bemused dwarf could utter another word, Merry turned and fled. Icicle howled at his departing back and Gimli put his hand on her upraised head. "All right Milady, quiet now, you'll upset the other little one too if he hears you." Gimli soothed her head as she began a high-pitched keening sound. "Hush Icicle, he'll come round I dare say in his own time. Perhaps I spoke out of turn, but I'll just make it worse if I follow. One of the others, no doubt, will put him straight."

***********************************************************************************************************

Merry ran blindly for a short while then flopped down beside a little brooklet that chattered happily through the woodland. He felt as if the whole world was breaking in two and he was stretched across the middle of it, torn between duty and responsibility and Pippin's need. The love he had for Pippin made it almost impossible to turn his back on his cousin and yet that was what he was being asked to do. Merry looked at the babbling water and suddenly felt unreasonably cross with it. The water had not a care in world and he had so many – and poor Pip had even more – it was so unfair. The hobbit picked up a pebble and threw it in the busy water but, in spite of a quick little splurt, it did not even pause.

"Why so sad young perian?" The Silvan voice was light and silvery and cut through Merry's despairing mood like a hot knife through butter. He lifted up his tear-stained face to see Legolas smiling down at him. "It is not like you to be so downcast Merry. It belies your name if nothing else."

"Why would you even ask me," Merry looked away again and found another little stone to cast into the water. He let it go with some force, as if he could throw his troubles away with it. "You cannot be unaware of what they want from me, and how can I leave Pip when he won't even remember me if I ever get back?"

"Oh Merry, that is a long path ahead – for all of us. But Pippin must make his choice for himself – just as we all must make our choices."

"What does that mean?" Merry continued with his distracted stone throwing, not even turning to look up at Legolas as he came to sit beside him. "I don't understand. Pip needs me – he's always needed me. That hasn't changed just because of what happened to him."

"Merry, Merry?" Legolas caught the hobbit by the chin and turned his face to look into his eyes. "If you truly hold Pippin to your heart then you must trust him also. You must believe that he is capable of knowing what is best for him and if he seems at the moment not to understand or be making the wrong choices – then perhaps what you think is right for him, is not." Legolas paused to let that idea sink in, then added as a softer thought, "Or it could be that he just has not reached the right decision yet – but whatever it is – he must eventually find it on his own."

"But surely that's what kith and kin are for – to help you through troubles." Merry turned his face away again, uncomfortable with Legolas's intense gaze, "Pip has suffered so much and I wasn't there to help and now that I am, everyone seems to want to send me away from him."

"It is not a device to separate you two, Merry," Legolas persisted, "It is merely the way fate has twisted. It is difficult, but true, what cannot be cured must be endured and, Merry," Legolas caught the hobbit's arm as he was about to cast another stone, "please believe me, Pippin will understand eventually, truly he will."

Merry pulled his arm away and threw the stone hard at the water. The pebble bounced off a rock in the stream and fell with a plop into a little pool that had collected behind a large stepping-stone. "I don't understand and neither does he, and nor do you."

"Merry you understand perfectly," Legolas said quietly, "you just don't like what you understand. Those stones you are taking from the ground and casting into the water, they did not choose to be in the stream, they wished to spend their long existence on the ground, only wearing away in the water when the rain fell or a chance foot touched against them. But you have altered their fate and thrown them into the whirling stream, where they will grind into dust before their time. You see, fate is a strange phenomenon and it is difficult to predict or alter it. We did not expect to lose Mithrandir in Moria, but it happened. We did not want Pippin to be caught by the orcs but that too was fate. We are all caught in it, just as those stones are now caught in the stream – it is part of living."

Merry turned to look at Legolas – it was a long speech for the elf to deliver to him and it all made sense, but it did not make it any easier. Merry needed sympathy rather than truth. He felt there was a veiled message that Legolas was trying to tell him, but he could not quite make it out. "So you're saying I just have to put up with whatever life deals me? Is that it?"

"I'm afraid so, Merry," Legolas nodded, but smiled encouragingly at the same time. "But do not fear, The Valar will guide and protect both you and Pippin."

"Oh foetid foot-rot to The Valar!" Merry seldom swore but he was in poor sorts. "They've done little enough so far to protect any of us!" He jumped to his feet and threw several large rocks at the stream with vigour. "Especially Pip!" 

Merry turned back to Legolas, the last rock falling from his now limp fingers, his anger spent and shame creeping over his face at the outburst. "It-It's not the fault of the Valar, I know that. I'm sorry I said that Legolas – it was my fault! I didn't watch Pippin closely enough, if I had none of this would have happened. I'm sorry, sorry…" 

"Merry, do not blame yourself any more…" Legolas rose up and tried to catch the hobbit's hand.

But Merry pulled away, withdrawing into himself once more as he realised that even the wise elf could not change things. It was his fault and his alone, Legolas had made him see that, so he must bear alone the consequences. "I'll g-go to see Frodo again and try to explain. I-I've been selfish, and stupid… sorry Legolas…" With that, Merry turned away and headed briskly back towards the stairway leading to the healing chamber.

Legolas shook his head and shrugged, not certain what effect he had had but feeling it had not been quite what Merry had been expecting and worried now that he may have done more harm than good. He had wanted to tell Merry more, but he knew there were certain things the young one had to find out for himself in the fullness of time. 

***********************************************************************************************************

Merry sagged against the trunk of the mallorn that housed the healer's flet. Looking up the long stairs, Merry's legs felt weak – climbing down had been an anxious trial and now he needed to climb up again.

He shook himself. He was going to have to be stricter with from now on – if he did become the Ring-bearer, he would have to get used to hardships and overcome fears – and perhaps if he was in top physical form, he would somehow return home to Pippin.

As Merry started climbing, he thought about what would happen if he did make it back from Mordor - how would Pippin react? If the others had been teaching and caring for him, would they tell Pippin of Merry, and assure him that he had a cousin who loved him more than life itself? How horrible would it be to return to a fully mature Pippin but one who did not recognize him other than an abstract name? Or, if Frodo became horribly jealous, would he tell Pippin how Merry had taken the Ring from him?

**_'STOP!'_** Merry finally shouted at the voices arguing back and forth in his head. It was too much to think about now – and Frodo would never do something like that, would he? Anyway, it would most assuredly not do to have such possibilities in mind when he went to make peace with his elder cousin.

When he finally reached the flet which housed Frodo and Pippin, he stopped to catch his breath and calm himself. He tried to think through exactly what he was going to say as he normally did before a confrontation, but nothing came to mind. But this was ridiculous! He wasn't going to a confrontation with Lotho over some pipeweed land dispute, he was going to have a heart-to-heart with his much loved cousin! Standing up and squaring his shoulders, Merry knocked on the door.

"Come in," a faint voice called. At least he knew Frodo was awake – if not, Sam would have come running to open the door so that his master's sleep was not disturbed. He gently pushed open the door and peeped in. Surprisingly, Frodo was alone – Sam was not in the room. Merry hoped that the revelation that he might be taking Sam along with him had not caused discord between Frodo and his faithful servant.

Frodo eyed him mistrustfully. "What do you want, Merry?" he said shortly. So Frodo was still angry. Merry looked down at his toes.

"I want to talk to you, Cousin. Please." For a moment Frodo looked as though he might refuse Merry an audience, but then he nodded to the chair beside the bed.

"Very well. Say your piece."

"Frodo, I don't really have a 'piece' to say." Merry began once he was seated, "I simply want to talk some things over with a cousin that I love."

"You have an odd way of showing that love, Merry. I suppose it must seem best for me to give up the Ring and Quest **_I_** was charged with, but do you not think that I'm capable of making my own decisions about what's best for me?"

"But that's got nothing to do with it, Frodo!" Merry exclaimed. "I don't want to take It from you, and I don't want to be the Ring-bearer. You should be angry with Strider, not with me, Frodo - he's the one who has decided this! We need to work out how together we can convince him that this is not the right course of action!"

"And just what do you think we can do, Merry?" Frodo sounded angry. "_We_ couldn't even convince our own kinsman of the right course of action, so what makes you think it's possible to convince Aragorn?"

Merry sat in stunned silence, letting the words filter slowly through. Frodo was right, he had failed to show Pippin that it would be wrong to have his memories taken. It was as if he, Meriadoc, had consigned their own beloved, innocent little cousin to an early death. For Pip to lose all his memories and start again would be the equivalent of suicide – he might as well have just handed Pippin the knife and told him to go ahead. 

Before he could recover, the door swung open and an elf Merry did not recognize stepped in.

"I heard raised voices," he started, and then took in Frodo's flushed face and heavy breathing. At once he turned to Merry and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, perian, but you are disturbing the patient and I cannot let you stay."

"But I…"

"No protests – if Frodo is going to get well, he must have rest, which you obviously aren't giving him."

Merry allowed himself to be steered out of the room, giving one last glance over his shoulder and saying, "I'm so sorry, Frodo."

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Pippin! He had to see Pip again and tell him – stop him from doing it. But how? He had already told Pippin how he felt and then left him to make his own decision. He could not decide this thing for him.

But no! Merry stopped just outside Pippin's room and sat on the floor leaning his back against the door. Frodo was right, he should not have left Pippin to make this decision on his own. Pip was not in his right mind, but he was and Pippin and his parents and all his kin relied on Meriadoc to protect his little cousin, to look after him and be the responsible one, both their fathers had said so. 

He had let him down badly, Merry knew now, grieving over Gandalf so much he had forgotten Pippin. And now again, just when he needed it most, he, Merry, was about to let him down again!

That was it! At last Merry was filled with resolve, he had dithered too long, dangerously long. But he must act now, stop Pip before it was too late! He could not allow Galadriel to take his memories, it was too soon – Pip had to fight the pain – learn to cope with it – let it make him stronger! Merry would help him, would share the shameful memories and help him to live with it. They would do it together, whatever it took Merry would give – anything! Just as long as Pippin remained his Pip!

Merry jumped up to his feet and shrugged his clothes straight, lifted his determined little chin high and seized the door handle, knocking and entering, all in one smooth movement.

"Pip!" Merry froze. "Pippin? **_Pippin!_**"

"Oh he's gone Merry," Deilen was there, "The Lady Galadriel took him a while ago. He is to receive his treatment. Did you not know? I expect it is done by now."

"N-no… he- he can't! I n-need-ed t-to…" Merry realised he was stammering but he seemed unable to form whole words.

"Say goodbye?" Deilen stepped forward and bent to take Merry's hand in his. "It would have been too painful for both of you. The Lady did not want either of you to suffer further – it is better this way."

"Nooo!" Merry backed out of the door, shocked and stunned. This was the last thing he had expected. He had finally resolved to do the right thing but again he had left it too late. Now Pip and all that had made Pippin his own was gone – for ever !

Not seeing anyone or hearing anything, Merry fled down the flet stairs once more. Oblivious to the danger, even forgetting his recent accident, so great was his panic and remorse, he ran down the steps, barging into several elves on their way up and almost falling again, blinded as he was by tears and a terrible red mist that had descended over his vision.

One elf even caught him as he slipped, halting his progress and setting the hobbit on his feet once more, only to be pushed aside as Merry plunged on, unable to articulate or stop. 

Not really knowing where he was going Merry ran on through the trees and finally, out of breath and being without direction, he flung himself down between the roots of an ancient but beautiful Mallorn, curling up into himself, his arms over his head. 

The tree lightly touched the perian's shoulder and felt a shudder run through his ancient rings and patient, solid bark. The little one was suffering a hurt so great that naught could ever heal it; his pain was deep and wrought with guilt and self-loathing. The tree looked down in pity and sadness as the tiny creature sobbed and sobbed, his heart broken, wanting nothing for himself but death and an end to his pain.

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TBC

Author's Notes 

This is a quick apology or two.   
1. Sorry for the long wait.  
2. Sorry that this has still left you hanging.  
3. Sorry there are no individual answers to reviews.  
4. Sorry for anything else that I may have forgotten to apologise for.

Okay, so much for the apologies, now the excuses.

1. Both Kooks and I been really, really busy with other stuff.  
2. We suddenly realised there was at least another chapter in what was planned.  
3. I'm off on hols tomorrow (week in Wales with Marigold) so it was without responses or not at all.  
4. Hmm – no excuse for that.  
  
In other news, the next chapter is mapped out and should be hard on the heels of this one, complete with notes and everything else a reader's heart desires.  
Heddwch!  
  
Llinos and Kookaburra and Marigold


	42. Determined

Moria's Revenge  
Chapter 42 - Determined

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta: Marigold

Pippin hobbled along beside Galadriel, his hand in hers. When she had first come for him, he had initially resisted taking her hand, convinced that he was not fit to be in the same room as she, much less hold her shining, clean hand.

But gently the Lady insisted, and soon he felt lifted by more than just her supporting hand, but also by some spirit lifting his heart – soon he would be free! Free from the pain of his evil memories, and the burden he knew they must place on the others. At this realisation Pippin's thoughts darkened – he would free the others from his problems, but he did not want to forget them –his cousins, his kin, his friends.

As Pippin wrestled with these thoughts, Galadriel led him deeper into the Golden Wood, winding around the colossal mallorn trunks, and the babbling rills. Her wise heart was saddened as she looked at the perian doggedly walking beside her. Even when she shortened her step, Pippin was still straining to keep up, so laboured still was his walking. This was certainly the longest he had walked since he had first passed the borders of Lórien.

Finally they reached a small dell, where the rivulet spilled into several basins. Wordlessly Galadriel took Pippin by the shoulders, and guided him down several cunningly cut steps to the bottom of the depression. As soon as the hobbit sensed that their journey was over, he sank down onto a small boulder, breathing heavily. Although the Lady had not spoken a word to him during this time, Pippin felt a soothing aura emanating from her that comforted him very much.

Galadriel moved across the grass, and filled a silver ewer from the waterfall formed as the crystal stream spilled over the lip of the hollow. She then poured the water from it into a shallow silver basin. Pippin watched her with guarded interest. Was this some device to aid in erasing his memory? He would have thought that the Lady Galadriel was powerful enough to do it by herself.

"Peregrin Took." Pippin's reverie was interrupted by Galadriel's soft tone. "It is time."

He stood. She extended a hand, and he walked over to her, and took it.

"I- I don't know what to do…" he began, baffled at what was expected of him. Galadriel smiled softly at him. Again Pippin marvelled that such kindness and compassion was directed at him by someone so majestic – that she should even be aware of an insignificant being such as he.

"Step up here," Galadriel gave Pippin just enough support so that he could climb up on the pedestal. "And the mirror will show you what you need to know to make your decision." That hadn't been what Pippin meant when he asked what he was to do, but Galadriel was wise, and he was sure she knew best. Gripping the edge of the stand, he leaned over and gazed in.

All Pippin could see were the reflections of the water on the bottom of the bowl. Then it misted to grey, then muted green. Colours and shapes swirled and coalesced into images. To begin with he had trouble discerning what he was seeing, but then he recognized his mother and father's sitting room in the Great Smials. Sunlight was streaming through the round windows and a small hobbit lad sat in a great armchair, carefully cradling a tiny bundle in his arms, while Pippin's mother looked on with a sweet smile upon her face.

Suddenly Pippin realised that he wasn't looking at just any hobbit lad, but at his Merry! No one else had that combination of straw-coloured hair and round nose. Then the little bundle must be Pippin himself! He was looking back into the past, seeing the day when he met Merry! As soon as the realisation struck him, the image changed – he now saw himself and Merry running hand-in-hand with ill-gotten mushrooms bulging their pockets, then the vision changed again to both of them sitting in front of the hearth at Bag End, listening to Cousin Bilbo tell them wondrous tales of adventure.

As more and more scenes from Pippin and Merry's life together appeared, Pippin shed tears, tears for himself, as he knew he would not remember these happy times once Galadriel took the memories away. But then the scenes shifted in tone. Merry howling in pain when he had broken his arm falling from the old chestnut tree in the South Pasture, and Pippin steadfastly comforting him until help arrived. Then came the awful day when Merry's beloved pony, Thunder, stepped into a rabbit hole and broke his leg. Uncle Saradoc had had to put him down, and Merry had cried and cried while Pippin hugged him tightly. That image shifted to Merry keeping Pippin company as the younger hobbit recovered from some childhood illness. These were not at all happy memories, but Pippin knew he would miss these too.

Suddenly the images in the mirror vanished and, after a moment of blackness, new images took their place – dark visions, visions of his time as a prisoner in Moria. Pippin wanted to close his eyes, but he stayed riveted. He could see himself, one bright speck in the midst of the chaotic violence that had surrounded him during his captivity. However, that vision was gone in but a moment, replaced by scenes of Lothlórien itself. Pippin saw Merry once again keeping vigil at his side, never giving up hope that his cousin would be healed and doing everything in his power to help in that healing. There was another abrupt jump in the images and Pippin guessed that it indicated more time passing.

Now he could see Merry alone – then Merry talking to Strider. They were arguing, and the confrontation led to Merry running off. Why would Merry have to run from dear old Strider? The mirror only showed pictures, so Pippin simply kept that question in the back of his mind as the scene shifted to Merry now speaking to Sam – once again the conversation ended in a clear argument. What was happening? Pippin could just about understand having a confrontation with a Big Person, but a disagreement that ended in shouting between two of his dear friends? It was unthinkable!

The mirror-Merry sank back down on the bench, every muscle showing weariness and defeat and Pippin wished with all his heart that he could hold and comfort Merry the way the older hobbit had so often done for him and the way he had for Merry before. His hand reached out for the mirror, as if he could reach through space and time and offer Merry reassurance.

"Do not touch the water!" Pippin jerked his hand back as if he had been burned, and looked up at Galadriel for guidance, but she was not looking at him, only at the mirror. Now with all of the sad things the mirror was showing him, Pippin did not think he wanted to see any more, but his gaze was inexorably dragged back down.

Now Boromir was speaking to Merry – but something about his posture and attitude set off alarms in Pippin's head – it was predatory, and cunning. '_Run Merry_!' Pippin did not know **_why_** he thought this, only that he did. He breathed a sigh of relief when Merry finally did bolt.

As Merry encountered Gimli and then Legolas, Pippin could almost see the burdens being placed on his dear friend. His poor Merry! All those Big People wanted him to do these things that they themselves were unable and unwilling to do! How could they expect Hobbits to cope? How could they expect him to cope?

With tears in his eyes, he watched Merry make the trudge back up to the flet where Frodo was and, to his disappointment, they seemed to be arguing as well. Why were they at odds? It was bad enough that the Big People were putting pressure on the hobbits, but now they were falling out with each other! That wasn't right! An overwhelming desire manifested inside of Pippin to march straight to Frodo's room, sit both of them down and work through whatever was bothering them. With a start he realised that he would not be able to do that – the next time he saw the inside of Frodo's room, he wouldn't remember it at all – would not remember sweet Frodo or dear Sam or his darling Merry … or the horrid things that had happened to him in the mines, he reminded himself.

When Merry entered his own empty room, Pippin felt a terrible pang of regret – they wouldn't be able to say good-bye properly – but perhaps it was better this way. It would be easier for Merry, and… Pippin's thoughts halted in their tracks when he saw the look on Merry's face when he discovered Pippin's room empty.

"Merry," Pippin whispered, "please don't be angry with me, I have to- I c-c-can't go on like this." As he followed Merry's progress down the stairs and out into the forest, he continued his whispers, begging Merry not to be angry or sad.

When Merry finally tucked himself away in the roots of the tree and broke down into anguished sobs, Pippin felt his heart break. He felt his own body shuddering as he shared in his sobs, realizing that Merry was feeling as lost and alone as he had felt in the mines when he was tortured by the orcs. But unlike him, poor Merry had no one to turn to, not even Icicle.

But, worse than that, Pippin realised in that moment, that if Merry had been able to find him in the mines he would have battled his way through the blackness and despair of a thousand orc dungeons before turning his back on him. He had said as much, even offered to try and share what Pippin had suffered if it would lessen the anguish of his memories in any way.

And yet… here was he watching Merry endure the pain of losing him and he, Pippin, was turning his back on his dearest cousin, not reaching out his hand to comfort him, even though he had it in his control to prevent his Merry's suffering altogether. All he had been able to see was his own suffering, hardly had he considered the pain he was causing dear, sweet Merry.

Pippin stumbled backwards, stepping off the platform, and landed hard on the forest floor. "I-I'm sorry Milady- I c-c-can't do this now, I need… need to… Merry!" He stammered as he picked himself up and staggered from the glade.

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Merry's hitching sobs would not abate, even though he had cried for so long there was scarcely any breath left in his body. Nothing would ever be right again. Nobody understood the despair he was feeling. He wished from the bottom of his heart that he had been able to protect Pippin, he would have endured any amount of torture to save his dear one from a second of torment. He would give anything, starting with his very soul, to save Pippin from hurt. But even that had not been allowed him.

Suddenly he felt a familiar touch on his neck and a small hand wound itself into his curls, the thumb rubbing against the lobe of his ear in the way he sometimes did to Pippin. Although he realised someone small, a hobbit, was trying to comfort him, Merry's grief was too deep, too catastrophic to be eased. He shook his shoulder slightly and garbled into his sleeve, "Go away, I can't talk, I can't…Pip… oh Pippin!"

"Merry…" Pippin whispered between his own tears, "it's me, it's Pippin… please Merry, don't cry. Please, I'm so sorry."

"Pip?" Merry half sat up and turned around, stunned to see his little cousin there beside him. "Wha- what are you doing here? How do you know me? I thought…"

"No, it's not done… Merry… I don't think I can…" Pippin found himself trembling with emotion. Now that he had seen what he had almost done to Merry, he felt a new guilt and anguish build up inside him.

"What?" Merry sniffed, rubbing his sleeve across his face, "You've decided Pip, you have to go through with it, you have to have your memories taken away."

"No not that," Pippin took Merry's hand in his and sank to his knees beside his cousin. "I already know I can't do that – not to you, no matter how hard it is to bear, your pain is more dreadful than anything the orcs did to me."

"B-but…" Merry's voice would not come and he could only cling to Pippin's hand, his lip trembling and his breath still hitching with the residue of his grief.

"What I meant was, I don't think I can forgive myself… I mean, for how much I've hurt you," Pippin took Merry's hand in both of his now, kissing the fingers and looking up, his eyes full of apology, into his cousin's tear-streaked face. "Merry, it was dreadful of me, I was only thinking of myself and my anguish. I thought I would give anything not to have to remember, but now I realise I would give anything not to lose you – you are the most important part of me – the other half of my soul, even death would not take you away from me, so how could I relinquish you for the sake of forgetting what a few disgusting orcs did to me. Nothing is that bad… I'm so, so, so sorry! Can you ever forgive me, my dearest Merry?"

"Pippin! Oh Pip!" Merry flung his arms around his little cousin, clutching him to his chest and almost squeezing the breath out of him. "Why would you even ask? You don't need my forgiveness, like everything I have and everything I am, it's yours for the taking – always was, always will be."

The two hobbits knelt together, locked in each other's arms, for so long that time itself seemed to stand still. Eventually Merry looked up and, managing a small smile, held Pippin at arm's length. "But what about you? How will you cope Pip? You know I'll do whatever I can – share it with you, never mention it – whatever you want."

"I-I think I can tell you now, Merry," Pippin's eyes looked straight and squarely into his cousin's with a confidence that none had seen, certainly since he had been rescued. "I know now that nothing can ever be as bad as losing you – that was really the worst part of it all – not being with you."

"Oh Pip," Merry put his head on Pippin's shoulder, "That was my pain too. Knowing you were suffering and not being able to stop it – not being able to find you. But…" Merry lifted up and gazed lovingly back into the steadfast green eyes, "Together we can overcome anything – can't we?"

"Yes, yes we can!" Pippin agreed sadly, "I think now I can find the courage within myself to face this, but not without you – and – and if you will help me I **_know_** I can do it. It-it's just that I don't think I can bear to actually say – you know say out loud what happened. It would be like knowing they'd won and how much they'd damaged me… it's so hard Merry…"

"It will not be easy, Pippin dear heart." So wrapped up in each other had they been, that neither hobbit had noticed anyone else approach and the Lady Galadriel's footfalls were so soft it would take acute elven ears even then to hear her. "I may be able to help you to share what happened without Pippin having to speak of it. It will still be hard to bear but, if you are brave and trust one another, it may ease your pain Pippin."

"Oh my Lady!" Merry looked up in awe at the beautiful face, "I would do anything to help Pip and I will try to be as brave as he has been in making the choice to remain Pippin."

"I know you will Merry," Galadriel smiled at the two tear-stained, trusting hobbit faces gazing up at her. "Come now and I will do what I can for you." She offered a hand to each and, as they took her offer and stood, Merry wiped his sleeve across his face and then smiled resolutely across at Pippin.

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Aragorn was there in the healing chamber even as the three arrived, together with Deilen who had met them at the foot of the flet and carried poor exhausted Pippin the rest of the way.

"You found him Pippin!" Aragorn smiled at them both, "Merry I'm sorry I upset you, I should have realised how much pressure you were under."

"I-I shouldn't have been so silly," Merry looked at his feet, ashamed now that he had let his feelings get the better of him. "I should have listened to you and faced up to my responsibility, not just run away."

"No, it was my fault," Aragorn grimaced as he thought of what the poor youngster had been through. "I know that under normal circumstances you would not have hesitated and I know that you were not afraid for yourself – but rather that you were torn in two – a hard thing for anyone.

"But I was being selfish, just thinking about Pip and not the greater good." Merry looked up at the man, his bottom lip quivering with the remorse he felt.

"Merry," The Ranger knelt to hobbit eye level and took the little hand in his. "It was wrong that no one saw how much you were in need of sympathy. The Lady Galadriel told me what happened. You have been poorly treated by all of us. No one meant you to suffer so, we have all been so concerned with Pippin and Frodo, that your feelings were not considered."

"I'll try to do what is right Aragorn," Merry felt his eyes grow hot again as tears welled up at the kind words, "I will really."

"Merry, Merry!" Aragorn put his arm around the hobbit now and drew him in, "Don't you see? I am trying to apologise to you. You did nothing wrong, nothing selfish. You were just trying to please everyone and that is not always possible. You are a good brave hobbit and have nothing to be sorry for. It is I who am sorry – sorry I demanded so much of you without considering what else you already had to bear."

"And now there is yet another trial he must face," Galadriel said softly, "Do not fear Pippin," She caught the look of alarm on the younger hobbit's face, "No one but you two will know what occurred. All Estel needs to know is that the unbearable will now be borne by both of you, so the pain of it may be eased by the sharing."

"Really?" Aragorn held Merry away from him so that he could look into his face, "Pippin has agreed to this? And you will do it?"

"Of course I will." Merry nodded, "Although I do not know how or what I must do."

"Come," Galadriel drew Merry to the bed, where Pippin was already seated, and helped him up, "it is time."

"Wh-what are you going to do My Lady?" Pippin held Merry's arm tightly to keep from shaking, "what must I do?"

"You must be brave Pippin," Galadriel began, "I will try to join your minds together through my own thoughts, although I will not heed what is happening in your minds. I have enough control to do that. What took place must be just between you and Merry. Do you understand?"

Both the hobbits nodded, but only Pippin spoke, "is it going to be like living it all again? Only I don't know if I – if…" he trailed off, not sure **_what_** he could bear now.

"Yes," Galadriel laid a gentle hand upon his head, "except this time you will not be alone. Merry will be with you the whole time. I want you to remember exactly what happened. Merry will not be able to change what they did but he may be able to alter the way you cope with it, do you understand?"

Merry nodded, "I think so. Pip will remember the whole event while we are linked and I will see what happened, but I can also say things to him and to the… the orcs?"

"Yes, Merry," Galadriel placed her other hand on Merry's curls now, completing the circle between the three of them. "Remember you can not stop anything, but you can change how Pippin reacts to it and perhaps how he feels about it… are you both prepared?"

Pippin clutched Merry's arm a little tighter and Merry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We are." Merry spoke for both of them, although he could feel Pippin's fear emanating from every sinew in his being. "It's all right my Pip," he whispered, "I'm with you this time."

Aragorn quietly backed out of the room as Galadriel gently stroked her hands over the hobbits' curly heads. "Be one with me, my little friends, be one within my mind…"

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Pippin was holding Merry's hand, standing, whole and well at a shining portal that glowed brilliant white light, obliterating the darkness beyond. He felt happy and he could feel Merry's thoughts too it seemed, happy thoughts. Glad that he was alive and well, happy to be together.

Gradually the light began to fade and the darkness started to overwhelm it. Pippin felt himself diminish and start to quake with fear, but still Merry steadfastly held his hand and thought what a brave and good hobbit he was.

As the light dimmed to a glow, both the hobbits realised they were standing before the gates of Moria and everything began to move with nightmare speed. They journeyed through the mines and Gandalf was lost and as they came to the other side Pippin was stolen.

But this time Merry was there too.

As the orcs ripped Pippin's clothes away and laughed at him and abused him, Merry held Pippin's hand in his, and whispered to him, "They are ignorant animals my Pip. You are braver than they. So many of them and you are just one brave hobbit. They are stupid and evil and even if they hurt you now, you will get better again and they will still be stupid and evil." Merry did not know where this eloquence had come from, it just seemed _right_, as hard as it was to say it, and not succumb to the horror of seeing what they had put his Pippin through.

When Pippin was thrown into the filthy, dark cave among the bones, Merry held him and comforted him, putting his own coat around Pippin's bare shoulders. Even in the darkness, he could feel Pippin's fear and despair, and did his best to let Pippin know that he was not alone.

"M-m-merry?" came a muffled voice from where Pippin had buried his head in Merry's shoulder.

"Yes, my Pip?" Merry planted a kiss in his cousin's curls.

"I'm so s-sorry I brought you into this, M-merry; I'm sorry you had to see... them…" here Pippin's voice broke off and he made a gesture indicating what he meant.

"Oh, Pip- shhhh, Don't be sorry, there's no place I'd rather be than at your side – no matter what the circumstances. Don't you know how much you mean to me?" He gently pushed Pippin away, and turned Pippin's face up towards his, and wiped away the tears that were flowing freely.

"I d-d-do, but when I think about the orcs they, well, they crowd out the thoughts about how much you love me."

"Then I shall just have to make sure I continue 'crowding out' the thoughts of them," replied Merry. He did just that, whispering into Pippin's ear.

When the orcs dragged Pippin out again and chained him, Merry held his hand and even interposed his own body when the orc beat and kicked Pippin, taking the blows himself and snarling at the evil faces that dealt out scorn and hate. He was struck again by the size difference between the orcs and Pippin – who seemed like such a small bright spot in the midst of the overwhelming darkness. As the orcs dragged the small form, Merry kept pace, saying words of encouragement.

Merry knew what was coming next and together they withstood the trials of the orc mess hall, where more appalling torture was heaped upon the little hobbits. Merry cuddled Pippin closely as they crawled under the table and beat off the wargs as they fought over the mushroom that Pippin had claimed.

When they inserted the stinging, foul hotroot into Pippin, Merry held him close and rocked the pain away, not letting him run around the great hall in agony. "Soon over Pip, soon gone," he crooned over and over.

He could barely hold onto Pippin, so great were the convulsions that wracked the small body. "Merrymerrymerry – it hurts, please make it stop, please...!" Pippin shrieked again and again. Merry wept bitterly wishing there was a way he could relieve Pippin's agony. He had already wiped off some of the excess with the corner of his cloak, but there was nothing he could do about the hotroot inside.

Then they drugged him and whipped him, but Merry still cradled him, shielding his body from the worst of the blows and when Pippin looked up and saw Legolas and Boromir, Merry whispered reassuringly, "it's not them Pip, look again. They've given you an evil mushroom – a bad one – that makes your eyes deceive you. It's not them – look through my eyes and you will see. Then Pippin found he could see through his cousin's eyes and at last he knew the truth. The orcs were the only ones who had beaten and kicked him and now, as he looked, suddenly the image in their thoughts changed.

Merry had managed to push himself further into the memory and now the orcs were beating and abusing Merry too!

"No!" Pippin suddenly rallied, "Don't you touch my Merry – you foul creatures – not my Merry – I will kill you!" His fists balled and his temper made his blood flow faster, chasing away the pain and fear. Pippin was aware that this was not what had happened the first time, but the knowledge that **_had_** Merry been there he **_would_** have been this brave, filled him with the pride that had been stripped of him before. The action filled Merry with pride as well.

"Stay angry, Pip, that's right." He murmured.

Then the scene moved rapidly on and they were dragged before the Chief Orc, the one Pippin had called "Master". Again Pippin trembled with fear as the great brute tormented and raped and beat him, although this time Merry held his face and whispered over and over, "He's a pig-faced piece of excrement, the pigs would not eat with him, he's so low. He stinks worse than a pig and… and Pip my love, no one has ever loved him in all his life. Just think of all the people who love you! No one would want to have him, even if he came gift-wrapped on a plate of stuffed figs!" The ordeal was almost as hard for Merry as it was for Pippin- having to see his little cousin crushed under the appalling bulk of the Chief, seeing his terror filled face peeping out intermittently at the apex of the orc's thrusts was nearly too much, and when words finally failed him he simply held Pippin's hand and wept over it.

The pain was still real and the appalling agony and humiliation as they were chained up next to the wargs, although not treated as well as they, but now they held to each other and Pippin pushed himself in front of Merry when the filthy great hand came near to either of them. Merry's heart swelled at the determination Pippin was showing. "That's my brave lad," Merry whispered. "I knew you'd save me Pip."

Then he was gone and as the hobbits lay in each others arms, naked on the floor, a terrible gag rammed into Pippin's mouth, Icicle came and licked and tended to them both, whining and worrying at them with her concern and love. "You see how much Icy loves you Pip, from the very first you won her over. That was so clever of you."

"Yes, Merry," Pippin was not sure how he could talk through the awful gag, "I would have died without Umum – without Icicle – I know I would. But she'll be gone in a while and then there is worse to come, Merry."

"I know my little love," Merry kissed the brown curls, "But I'm with you now. This is it, isn't it? Are you ready?"

Pippin nodded and the scene moved swiftly forward. Icicle was gone and three leering, hideous Uruk-hai stood over them. Although he knew the next scene was inevitable, Merry clutched Pippin to him, trying to delay the ordeal for just a few moments longer. As the orcs tried to tug Pippin away from Merry, Pippin began to whimper quietly. "Merry-please-don't-let-them-take-me-please-no..." But, for all Merry's attempts, they still pulled Pippin viciously away from Merry and one of the three held Merry tightly, making him watch, unable to talk to Pippin or help him no matter how hard he struggled.

Frugly seized Pippin's jaw and forced himself on the helpless hobbit, grunting with need and pushing himself to and fro. Then he turned Pippin about and the other orc took his place as they both vented their filthy, animal lust upon the poor hobbit. Pippin was beyond crying out and now, somehow, Merry watching, unable to help, was making it worse. This was just what Pippin had dreaded, that Merry would see him, helpless and shamed, unable to fight back, totally at the mercy of whatever degradation these frightening creatures chose to brutalise him with.

As Frugly finished and the other orc, handed Merry to him and took his place, Pippin knew that it had all been a mistake! Merry should not be here – should not have to see any of this. He was a disgusting piece of flesh that had no dignity and deserved no love or trust or respect from any one. He was not worthy of the name hobbit even, let alone, son of the Thain or The Took. The final crushing humiliation came, as the orc before him, finished and pulled away, only to urinate on his head. "No, please, no don't let Merry see… please no… no… I would rather die… please no… no…" The words tumbled over and over and Pippin could not be sure if he uttered them or only imagined them.

The orc behind him grunted with release, even as Frugly joined his friend in relieving himself on the prone little body.

Suddenly, to Pippin's and the orc's astonished ears came a peal of unrestrained laughter. Merry was rolling on the floor pointing at the orcs and chortling with glee. "Ha! You great idiot you wee'd yourself – don't you know how to use a privy? Hey and do you know what else? You're dead now anyway – you got twenty elven arrows in you – and you know why? Because Pip saw you! Outside Lothlórien, he saw you first and warned the elves. Ha ha! All three of you! You all get killed!

All at once Merry was back at Pippin's side, holding him and wiping his face and kissing his nose and running his fingers through his hair. "See Pip, it doesn't matter who wins the battle, you won the war! See – you won in the end, my brave, brave Pippin."

"Merry?" Pippin looked up at his smiling cousin in wonder and amazement. "Is it true? Did I do that? Did I win?"

"Yes, of course you did, my Pip," Merry continued to cuddle and soothe him, "you survived and lived to fight another day. We hobbits may not be best at swordplay or fisticuffs, but we have other ways of winning and you won this war – as least you're going to win it, just by remaining you – touched maybe, but unscathed and stronger than before."

"Oh Merry, do you really think so?" Pippin could sense the orcs and the chamber fading from around them, "I was so afraid of telling you or anyone about that thing they did, I thought it was worse than anything – ever, but you made it – I don't know – almost funny."

"It wasn't funny Pip," Merry looked serious again now, "but it was stupid. And I already knew about it, Strider had guessed from the urine he found on you, we all knew, it was just another stupid piece of orc filth designed to make you feel worthless. But you know, they are, or rather were, the worthless ones and now they're dead."

"Oh Merry, Merry, I don't know what to say… that was so…" Pippin laid his head on his cousin's shoulder and sighed deeply.

"Just say you don't care anymore what they did and that you're happy just to be you – my brave, darling, clever, sweet Pippin."

"Yes Merry…Yes of course, my own dear Merry." And as the words left his lips, Pippin realised he was saying them out loud and that they were back in the bedchamber, seated upon the big bed.

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The Lady Galadriel took her hands from their heads and stooped to look enquiringly into the two tear-stained, smiling faces. "All better now?"

Two curly heads nodded in unison.

Galadriel had already known the answer and lifted her head up with a sweet ripple of delighted laughter. Then she leaned in close once more, "and you Peregrin Took, how do you feel?"

"I feel… I feel…" Pippin turned to Merry and grinned, not just smiled but grinned in true Pippin style, "I feel strong! I feel fine! I feel like nothing can ever touch or harm me again! Not as long as I have my Merry." Pippin's grin faded as he turned back to face the elven queen. "Thank you for not taking my memories away My Lady, that would have been a foolish and thoughtless choice for me to make."

"Dear Pippin," Galadriel smiled tenderly as she sat down beside them on the bed, "It is not within my power to do that – to you or to anyone and neither would I. Your memories are what make you – you, for good or ill."

"Then why…" Pippin's eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Why would you offer such a thing… to… I don't understand."

"To help you see that who you are matters," Galadriel explained, "Not what other people might do to you. It's who you are that is important. No living being could have survived what you did without loss of something, you lost a little of your soul." The Lady took one each of their hands in hers and clasped them together, "Or perhaps you did not have it with you. I truly believe that Merry owns one half of your soul and, without him there, it was too hard for you. But with him beside you – you could be whole again and face the ordeal in a different way." She bent and kissed Pippin on the forehead, "But you had to make that decision for yourself, otherwise it would count for nothing – I knew you would or else I would not have given you the choice."

"And if ever we are parted again," Pippin looked sadly up at Galadriel as if he read something in her eyes, "I will be brave, for I know now that I have it within me to be strong, because I have to come safe home for Merry and everyone else who cares about me."

"Oh Pippin, my dearest Pip." Merry hugged him closer than ever, "I'll never let you go again, even if we're not together, I'll always be with you in my heart and in my soul – for ever and ever."

"But Merry, you may have to take the Ring," Pippin snuggled his head into his cousin's shoulder, "But I can't let you leave me – not when we've just been through so much – not ever. If you have to be the Ring-bearer, then I shall come with you all the way to the fiery mountain. I don't care what anyone says! I can do it and I will. We shall do it together Merry!"

---------------------

**TBC**

Author's Notes

Llinos in the Chair as Kookaburra and Marigold are both inundated with stuff at the mo.

Thanks everyone for the reviews, both Kooks and I really appreciate your feedback. Kooks, in particular has been snowed under just lately as she is involved in an intensive art course right now, but she always reads the reviews the same day and passes them on to Marigold and me. We all love to get them!

Not many questions to answer, as this chapter has pretty done the job. There is still the issue of Merry/Frodo and the Ring – but you shouldn't have to wait too long.

Agent Pip: I cried for Pip all the way through the torture.  
Llinos: Well dry your eyes now.

Baylor: Cruel writers, to leave us hanging so!  
Llinos: Ah – but we must be cruel how else can we be kind.

Deranged Lil' Hobbit: I think that puts so much more of a Tolkein-essence into the story!  
Llinos: Gosh – I never thought I hear anyone say that about this story – but thanks!

Scarlet Angel4: Please don't take away his memories! Please don't make it months and months until the next update!  
Llinos: We try to please – hopefully we can fulfil both requests – no promises though.

Sam: How is it possible you make me feel guilty for throwing rocks into streams?  
Llinos: I did? Sorry about that! Now I feel guilty for making you feel guilty – especially as you left such a nice review!

Hai Took: Poor Merry, all he needs is a friendly ear and some help not truth or explanations  
Llinos: Yes indeed – mean Fellowship – still it all makes for angst!

pipwise brandygin: I'm really worried about Pippin now though - I can't wait to find out :)  
Llinos: Hope you liked the solution.

Gayalondiel: poor Boromir, don't be too nasty to him, okay?  
Llinos: Well Gaya – Boromir's fate is pretty much sealed – but blame J.R.R.

Oliversgurl: This is depressing.  
Llinos: Cheer up – not much more to go!

LadyoftheLlamas: this is the author formerly known as Blue Jedi Hobbit 009 - It's a long story...  
Llinos: Bit like this one, eh?   
LadyoftheLlamas: I'll just have to delay working on my thesis for my Research Report for a while longer while I go back and read the last chapter or two or three  
Llinos: Sorry to interrupt your research – while you research this story!

Camellia Gamgee-Took: Oh, that was utterly amazing - nearly had me in tears!  
Llinos: Rats! Only nearly? :)

Amy2: sits down and waits for the next chapter...[waits..lalalala...] Bah! goes to bed  
Llinos: Wake up now! It's here!

Lupine Draconis: shocked look  
Llinos: To quote Galadriel "all better now?"

Pearl Took: Poor hobbits all! I hope they have some resolution to some of this soon  
Llinos: We're getting there.

Coriandra: Poor Merry, he's required to take the Ring and Frodo's angry with him, even though he had no say about it.  
Llinos: Well that's still an unresolved problem – sorry to make you wait again!


	43. Completed

Moria's Revenge  
Chapter 43 - Completed

Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos  
Beta: Marigold

"But what did you say to him Sam?" Frodo turned away from Aragorn to question his servant. "I realise now that I was… I was a little abrupt with him… but now Strider tells me that poor Merry had a disagreement with every one of us… Sam this is awful, how could it have happened?"

"I know, I feel mighty sorry too," Sam hung his head and could not meet Frodo's eyes. "I didn't mean nothing by it – I was just trying to… I mean I wanted to…"

"What he is attempting to explain," Aragorn supplied helpfully, "is that he only wanted to protect you but, in the process, hurt Merry."

"Well I suppose that's about the gist of it," Sam admitted. "And a bad show it is an' all."

"Yes, I'm sure you meant to act for the best Sam," Frodo smiled kindly at the crestfallen hobbit, "but it seems we were all rather harsh on poor Merry."

Aragorn had spent the time while Merry and Pippin were reliving Pippin's worst moment of captivity, explaining to, first Legolas, Gimli and Boromir, and now Frodo and Sam, Merry's anguish and despair as he was torn in two, between Pippin and duty. The Ranger had only realised, after Galadriel had explained, what Merry was going through and that Frodo had been reluctant to acknowledge that he might not be able to continue the Quest and relinquish the Ring to his cousin.

"Well my Gaffer used to say, 'soonest friended – soonest mended'. I'll go make my peace with Mr Merry right now if that's all right with you Mr Frodo?"

"We all must, Sam." Frodo looked up at the Ranger, "Am I well enough do you think to walk Aragorn? I'd like to go and see Merry too, it doesn't seem right that he should come to me."

"No Frodo, you certainly are not well enough to running around looking for Merry," Aragorn knew that the healers would complain with justification if he indulged Frodo in this way, but the look of anguish on the hobbit's face almost made him relent. "I will fetch Merry here to you. I think he will understand."

"There is no need to go looking for the young hobbit." Gimli stood at the door to Frodo's room with Legolas. Merry stood between them, looking exhausted, red-eyed but with a resolute smile on his lips. "We found him and brought him because he wanted to talk to you."

"But he was afraid you wouldn't want to see him." Legolas raised an eyebrow, asking Frodo to confirm that was not so.

"Of course I do," Frodo looked sheepish too, "Merry lad, come here."

Merry climbed up on the bed and gently put his arms around Frodo. Now that he had resolved the difficulties with Pippin, all other problems, even that of the Ring Itself, seemed to diminish into insignificance. He knew now that his fight with Frodo and with Sam and with the others, had been, for his part, due to the anguish he was feeling at losing Pippin. Normally Merry was slow to anger and patient with his friends, but the thought of Pippin giving up on life had made everything else in his world discordant and unbearable and he had tried to confront the conflicts without realising why.

Now that this was resolved there was no need for words of apology, Frodo and he both knew that all was well again between them. In fact, as Frodo embraced his younger cousin, he was aware of something else. When they had hugged for a long time, Frodo pulled Merry back and looked at his face intently. "It's all right, Merry, isn't it? Pippin chose to remember and you've helped him through it – haven't you? We haven't lost him?"

Merry nodded. He did not need to ask Frodo how he could tell, Frodo knew him so well, better possibly than even Pippin. Frodo was more insightful with his friend's emotions and he could often read what had happened with just a look.

Frodo caught himself wondering then about his own reaction to Merry. Why had he been so angry earlier? Why had he felt cross and betrayed by his cousin? Merry had talked of taking the Ring from him – was that it? Had It taken such a hold on him that, even as he lay here, sick in this bed, brought low by Gollum's vicious attack, the slinking creature's drive to regain the evil thing was starting to affect he himself! Why else would he have felt such rage at Merry's suggestion? Frodo knew that Bilbo liked to keep the Ring about his person and now Frodo himself felt anxious at even the thought of being parted from It.

This was all wrong! Frodo shuddered, even as he drew Merry back into his embrace once more he realised that something was deeply wrong – not with Merry, but with him. How could he ever destroy the Ring if he was so loathe to even think of allowing Merry to take over the Quest and become the Ring-bearer in his stead? Was it just that he wanted to protect Merry from the danger inherent in such a thing? Frodo searched deep within himself as he held his dear cousin close, and found that, although it was a factor, it was not the whole case. The very thought of handing the Ring to his darling Merry made him sick with rage!

"Merry I know now, it was not your fault, nor mine – it is the Ring!" Frodo stroked Merry's curls as he held him near, It preys upon me and eats away at my friendship and love for you and Sam and Pippin – It's not me, truly. I fear for you though, my own dear cuz. How will you fare if I lay such a burden upon you?"

"I don't know," Merry admitted, "I was just doing what I was told to do – what the others said – I would have done my best, Frodo that's all I could."

"Of course you would dearest Merry," Frodo was becoming weak with the prolonged activity and sank back down onto the bed with exhaustion. "Indeed you will. Aragorn is right, I'm not fit to carry on. Look at me, one minute of hugging you and I'm too tired to sit up any longer."

Frodo, even though his body was worn out and spent with the emotion and activity, reached deep within his soul to summon up the courage and resolve that he needed. He could not allow this Thing to take possession of him, he had to be stronger than the evil contained in the wretched burden around his neck, strong enough even to cast It away, as eventually the Ring-bearer – whoever that should be – would have to. He took hold of the Ring, pulling the chain over his dark curls, "No Merry, you shall take It in my stead, and Sam shall go with you." Frodo held the Ring out to his cousin. "Pippin and I shall stay here until we are both healed and then you shall meet us once the Quest is complete."

"You can't mean that Frodo?" Merry put his hands behind his back, almost in horror as his cousin dangled the Ring on the end of the glistening chain before his face. "I can't take It – can I?"

"Not yet Frodo," Aragorn interceded, the man was surprised indeed at Frodo's actions, but impressed with the hobbit's sudden resolve. "There is no need to decide immediately. You may recover sufficiently to continue."

"I am very frail still Aragorn," Frodo smiled weakly, "I can barely sit up for more than two minutes at a time. How can I carry this Ring to Mount Doom?"

"That's true enough, Mr Strider," Sam put in, "Mr Frodo's hardly even been out o' bed since that creature attacked him and near ripped his throat out."

"Sam's right," Frodo nodded, "I don't think I can…" Frodo stopped suddenly as if something had caught him unawares, his eyes blinked rapidly and he felt a strange energy pulsing through his body and a great heat moving towards his neck and the injury in particular. He reached his hand to touch where the bandages were and was surprised to feel a strong pulse there. It was not painful, as it should have been, which was a little frightening in itself.

"What is it Frodo?" Merry saw Frodo's face change, "Are you all right?"

"Here, let me…" Aragorn reached forward and touched Frodo's brow, lightly, but he withdrew his hand almost at once, as if he had been scalded.

"What's wrong?" Sam's voice had an edge of panic to it. "Is he sick? Mr Strider? What's the matter with him?"

"No, it's all right Sam… Merry," Frodo slipped the Ring back around his neck and took hold of Merry's hand, using it to pull himself up. From deep within his being, the hobbit could feel a powerful thrumming resonate, as if energy were surging through him. It was a strange feeling, but not altogether unpleasant. Now the fear of what was happening to him fell away and Frodo was calm and confident about what was happening to his body. He knew that he should not feel that way, but for some reason he could not help himself. "I feel so much better! Perhaps that little argument we had Merry was what I needed to buck me up."

"Frodo?" Merry looked at him quizzically. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"So much so, I think I could even get up and go for a little walk," Frodo announced to the astonishment of all present. "Where are my clothes Sam?"

"Wait!" Aragorn held up his hand to belay Sam from rushing to find something for his Master to wear. "This is too strange. Frodo let me have a look at you." Aragorn looked carefully into Frodo's eyes, felt his forehead and loosened his nightshirt and the bandages around his neck. "This is amazing!" Legolas and Gimli leaned forward to see what had astonished the Ranger so, "The neck wound is virtually healed! I saw it myself, not 24 hours since. It was suppurating and bruised, the gash was hardly mended and yet now…!" Aragorn broke off in astonishment.

"The wound looks like a mild scratch, nothing more," Gimli gasped in deep awe, "What happened Master Baggins? How did it this recovery occur so quickly?"

"There is a powerful force at work here," Legolas added, "Frodo must have been touched by the Valar for such an occurrence."

"I am not so sure that this was done by a power for good!" Aragorn narrowed his eyes as he continued to examine the now rapidly healing wounds on Frodo's neck and arm. "What made you offer the Ring to Merry, Frodo?"

"I knew that I was too ill to continue," Frodo admitted, "and I was suddenly aware that if I kept It, The Ring would never be destroyed and so I **_had_** to pass It to Merry."

"There, my friends," Aragorn smiled grimly, "I think we have our answer! It was the Ring Itself that brought about this miracle. While Frodo lay here, It was secure, but once he resolved to pass the Ring to Merry, It knew that keeping Frodo an invalid would not save It from the fires of Mount Doom." And, he thought to himself, the evil Thing knew that It would have to start afresh to wear away at the mind and body of a new bearer, another of these dauntless little creatures that proved nearly impossible for It to control. It believed It served Its own purpose better by remaining with Frodo. _Ah, Frodo, what will become of you in the end, dear friend!_

Frodo just smiled at his anxious friends and then stretched casually, "Are there some clothes I could wear Sam?" His question was wide eyed and belied the tumult of thoughts tumbling over and over behind his innocent expression. _'How had the Ring done this to him? He had felt It embed Itself even more deeply within his soul, even as It cured him, how was he ever going to be able to destroy It?_

_'The Ring whispered to him to be calm, not to worry, no one would guess Their secret, that They were One now, Frodo Baggins and the Ring. There would be time for him to decide Their fate, he would make the right choice, the Ring told him. But what that choice should be Frodo's heart knew, Gandalf had told him – It must be destroyed! But an insistent voice inside was nagging at him, clawing at his soul, you may have to keep It to save all. Frodo will make the right choice. Wise Frodo.'_

Frodo's face changed to a grimace, although no one seemed to notice. Deep inside he was holding back a tiny inner thought of his own, a thought that the Ring could not hear, so deep was the secret that Frodo would not voice it, even to himself, but he knew, if he could not cast the Ring into the Mountain of Fire, he would cast himself in and take the accursed Thing with him.__

But for now the burden around his neck again sang It's insidious song,_ 'Don't worry, you are well and no one else may touch your beautiful Ring. You alone may keep It, you alone…' _Frodo's reverie was suddenly snapped back to the healing chamber.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing, in a way," Sam scratched his head in perplexed bafflement, "That the Ring made you better, Mr Frodo, I mean. My Gaffer always says, 'it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good!' And that's a fact!"

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Through the next few weeks, Pippin made rapid improvement, though he still had his good days and his bad days. Nothing could take away the dreams that would haunt him, even though Merry was always there upon his waking to soothe away Pippin's fears. However, an unfortunate side effect of having personally witnessed what Pippin went through were some nasty dreams for Merry, although he did his best to not let Pippin know about them. The rest of the Fellowship, not privy to Pippin's night terrors, often only saw a hobbit who each day was closer to the one they had entered the Mines with. And one day, when Boromir and Aragorn were walking through the woods towards their pavilion, and witnessed Pippin running and laughing with Merry and Icicle, wearing his old mended shirt and britches, they knew they had spent time enough for healing.

So it was that one month after they had arrived in Lothlórien, a battered and bereft party, that finally all were healed and could leave to continue onwards with their Quest.

Aragorn, now at the head of the eight remaining travellers, resolved to guide as best he could in Gandalf's stead. Frodo, with the faithful Samwise at his side, was well and resolute in his task to overcome the evil inherent in his Burden and carry It to Its final destruction in Mount Doom. Gimli and Legolas, their friendship growing by the day, would stand firmly beside the Ranger and the Ring-bearer and Boromir, whilst yet counselling that they should take the road to Minas Tirith, resolved to follow Aragorn and do all he could to aid the mission. Merry and Pippin, now both whole and healed, were determined to stand by Frodo until his mission was complete or death took them, just as they had vowed back in Crickhollow at a time that seemed so very long ago now.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Pippin took a long and mournful farewell of Icicle. "What will become of Umum, I mean Icy, Milady?" Pippin looked up at Galadriel with pleading eyes, "Can she not come with us?"

"That is not her path, Peregrin Took," Galadriel spoke soothingly words Pippin did not really want to hear. "She has another task to perform that will take all her time and thought. Do not fear for her, for she has been touched by the Valar and such a creature will always carry their protection."

"But… but I'm going to miss her so much." Pippin kept his arms firmly around Icicle's great ruff, "I'm not sure what I will do if I were to meet with an orc again."

"Do not fear young Pippin," Galadriel placed her hand upon his head in benediction, "you have a greater strength within you now than you ever had before, and that was great indeed. Trust in yourself and in your cousin. You will meet many sinister things in these shadowy times, but few have encountered and survived as much darkness as you have. It is possible that you can turn what you suffered to your gain, I sense that you are skilled in this way."

"Yes, he is very good at that, Milady. Particularly when he needs to get out of trouble caused by his mischief making!" Merry came up behind Pippin and placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Come, Pippin. It is time to say good-bye."

"Yes Merry, I know. I just need a moment." Pippin still kneeling beside the snow-white warg, his arms lovingly around her neck, buried his face in her fur and whispered. "Dearest Umum, I owe you so much, my very life, Lady Galadriel says you can't come with me, but I will always carry you in my heart, please carry me in yours and think of me sometimes. Thank you Umum, thank you for loving me when I was so lost and alone. Keep safe and remember, I'll always love you and be your little pup, no matter how big I grow."

Merry looked up at the Lady now, his head tilted questioningly on one side, "Couldn't Icicle come with us? I mean she'd make our numbers up to nine once more and, although she'd not replace Gandalf, she'd be a wonderful companion."

"No Merry," The Lady laughed sweetly, "I suppose I shall have to tell you her secret or you two will give her no peace or farewell."

"Secret? Task?" Pippin looked up with furrowed brow, "What is it Milady? I don't understand."

"Do you recall in the orc's chamber that there were two white warg wolves?" Galadriel asked them both.

"Yes," Merry said first, "I do remember that.

"Yes," Pippin agreed, "They were a matched pair, but the other one never took any notice of me."

"That was Icicle's mate," Galadriel bent a little to stroke the noble white head, "Madam Icicle, is expecting a pup of her own – in fact I believe it is to be twins. So you see Pippin, she is going to be too busy to take care of her older adopted pup for much longer."

"Oh Umum! Pippin threw his arms around her once more, happy now that she at least would not miss him too much with pups of her own to care for. "That's wonderful – you're going to be a real mother! Is that why you took such good care of me?"

"No Pippin," Galadriel smiled, "She would have cared for you anyway I am sure. But now she will have her new little ones to look after, so you see it would not be good for you take her any further."

"Ha!" Merry patted the warg too, "And I just thought that Gimli had been feeding you too much! Congratulations Icy – you should call the pups Merry and Pippin, so you'll remember us always."

Then Pippin stood and wiped what he hoped would be the last tear from his eye and stood by Merry. Icicle lifted up a paw and placed it on Pippin's knee for a moment, and then she threw her head back and gave a long heartrending howl, as if mourning a great loss, Before Pippin could hug her again, Icicle placed herself behind Galadriel, lying at the elven queen's feet as if she had decided this was now her place.

Pippin's jaw dropped in dismay, "Oh Umum, don't be sad…"

"Do not begrudge a mother her mourning Pippin," Galadriel leaned forward and patted his hand, "She is just saying goodbye to you in her own way. The nestraden naneth gave her life for you and the Valar breathed breath back into her because of the great love that she bore for you. But like a good mother, she knows it is time for her little one to strike out on his own and she will soon have her new babes to care for. Her offspring will be twice blessed for their lives too were returned by the Valar. They will be strong and fair, a precious gift to their mother that is well deserved.

"Then I do not," Pippin smiled now at his protector, "Farewell Icicle – Umum. I know, I'm healed now, but I'll always love you and…"

"Peregrin, please wait one moment." Pippin spun around, surprised at Haldir's sudden appearance. "I have a gift of my own to give you, to go with the Lady's." He held out a cunningly crafted elven dagger, like Legolas's, but different somehow. It was as long as his old sword and was housed in a scabbard that matched the golden belt the Lady had given him. "I realised that the orcs must have taken your sword in Moria, and would not have you go out into the world without a fitting weapon.

Pippin's mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments, then he looked up a Haldir. "Thank you so, so much Haldir. I'm afraid I hadn't even thought of my sword until now. I'm truly grateful that you thought of me." With that he lunged forward and gave Haldir an enthusiastic hug around the elf's waist. "Thank you for everything." Pippin breathed.

Galadriel bent and whispered to Pippin as he finally disengaged himself from Haldir's amused embrace, "I think you have a gift too, do you not? For Icicle?"

"Oh I wasn't… that is…" Pippin flustered in embarrassment. "It's nothing and I think Icy would think me strange." He wondered how the Lady had known what was in his mind, but then recalled that this particular elf usually knew what he was thinking.

"I do not believe she would ever think that of you Peregrin," Galadriel drew him by the hand back towards Icicle, putting her other hand on the warg. "Give her gift to her now, you made it with love and gratitude and she will know that it is a deep token of your love."

Pippin looked shyly up at Haldir, then realised that Sam and Frodo were waiting there too. He gulped a little, "It's just my thank you to Icy and Merry helped too, you know, with the rhymes and such." He then knelt down in front of Icicle again and, taking her paw in his small hand, he sang in his sweet melodious voice, to his dear saviour, a heartfelt, parting gift.

A little nothing scrap,  
Fell into your lair,  
A mouse caught in a trap,  
That shouldn't have been there.  
  
The mouse was lost and broken,  
All hope he'd given up,  
But a light in you was woken,  
And you took him for your pup.  
  
They say the Valar moved you,  
To take me for your own,  
But your love it was that proved true,  
Yours – and yours alone!  
  
No other soul had pity,  
On a helpless little mite,  
That in the Dwarrowdelf city,  
Lay weeping in the night.  
  
All the Stars were hidden,  
The Sun covered up Her face,  
The Moon there is not bidden,  
In that dark and fearful place.  
  
But into the deepest mining,  
There came a spark of light,  
Ice white fur brightly shining,  
A beacon burning bright.  
  
You stood fast beside me,  
And soothed as best you could,  
Cradled and tried to hide me,  
As only a mother could.  
  
Then they pulled we two apart,  
Took you from your child,  
I know it broke your noble heart,  
When I was beaten and reviled.  
  
But Icy, still you heard my cry,  
Came back and held me tight,  
Licked my salty tears dry,  
And nursed me through the night. 

The love you gave, made me try,  
To hold on to life so dear,  
Because of you I did not die,  
Although death seemed so near.  
  
You gave me hope when I had lost,  
All spirit, strength and pride,  
And dear Merry would have borne the cost,  
If I had given up and died.  
  
So thank you Icy from my soul,  
From Merry and from me,  
You kept me safe, kept me whole,  
And helped to set me free.  
  
Icy, though I've got to leave,  
And we can't be together,  
My darling nurse please believe,  
You're in my heart forever.  
  
Now Merry will look after me,  
And I'll watch him like no other,  
But part of my soul will always be,  
With my _nestraden naneth_ mother.  
  
Icicle's tail thumped heavily on the ground and Pippin was sure she had understood every word. Satisfied at last that it was time to part, he stood and turned resolutely to Merry. "I think we're prepared to face whatever's ahead." He smiled at his cousin, "Come on Merry, I'm ready, let's go."

-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Pippin tried to keep his panic down – orcs, huge orcs were surrounding them. He clutched Haldir's dagger in his hand, though for a while he thought he would not have to use it – Boromir was defending them well, and orcs fell to his blade like wheat to a harvester's scythe. Merry gripped Pippin's free hand, and immediately Pippin felt calmer – no matter what happened, as long as he and Merry were together, it would be all right.

Suddenly there was a hissing sound, and Boromir staggered. A black-feathered arrow shaft seemed to have sprouted from his chest. Pippin stared dumbly at it, for a moment wondering if the orcs thought that mere arrows could stop such a brave and strong man. For a few more moments it looked as though his first reaction was accurate, as Boromir continued fighting. Then two more arrows followed the first, and Boromir sank to his knees.

Pippin was struck dumb, but his heart echoed Merry's cry of rage – how dare they? How dare they hurt his dear friend, when they'd already hurt him and all of them so much? He dimly heard Boromir calling to them, telling them to run, but like Merry he did not heed it. Both of them charged the orcs, Merry reaching them first and cutting a few of them deeply.

Boromir struggled against the dark clouds that were threatening to overwhelm his vision – with curious detachment he watched his two pupils fighting bravely against odds they could never hope to defeat. His detachment lifted as pride swelled up in his breast and he watched Pippin, face contorted in rage, bravely fighting for his life the monsters he had faced before. Whether he lived or died right here, Boromir knew now, Pippin truly had been healed.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Merry! Merry!" Pippin pulled himself up the grassy slope, his bound hands hampering his movements as he crawled. He knew there were orcs all around him but the only thought in his head was for his cousin. "Merry are you hurt? Merry? Please say something!"

"Pip?" Merry turned over and looked groggily up at his little cousin. "Don't worry it's just a scratch I think." Merry lifted his tied hands up and touched his forehead, his fingers came away bloody and he winced his eyes shut at the sudden sting. "Not sure what hit me though."

"It was an Uruk with the butt of his sword," Pippin drew himself closer and nudged his body against Merry as the other tried to sit up. "Lean on me Mer, let me see your poor head."

Pippin had had a moment of near panic when he had seen the monstrous creature smash his weapon across Merry's brow. Merry had collapsed bonelessly and the Uruk had picked him up like a discarded bag, his cousin's head lolling about as he was swung upside down and thrown to another Uruk, who caught him with a raucous laugh at the hobbit's smallness and the ease with which they could heft him about. Merry was thrown from orc to orc as another held Pippin tightly, restraining his struggles and keeping his great hand over his screams for them to leave Merry alone.

But then a leader strode into their midst and caught Merry's limp body in midair, "What the fug do you lot fink yer's doin'? The Master wants these little rats alive and unspoiled! Now tie 'em up and stop fugging abaht wiv 'em!"

Pippin knew then that whatever happened, it was never going to be as bad as what had already been served to him and, most importantly, he had to stay alert and look for a chance to get away for Merry's sake. Merry was wounded! His head was hurt and that might mean anything. It was up to him this time to take care of his older cousin.

"Are you hurt Pip?" Merry looked furtively around, he could see nothing but orcs in every direction. "Did they… I mean, I'm sorry I was out cold and I should have stayed by you… are you…?" he dared not even ask the question directly. This was their worst nightmare come alive. After all that Pippin had suffered at the hands of the orcs he must be petrified.

"No, Merry, I'm all right." Pippin whispered. "I'm scared but they seem to think we've got something and they're not to spoil us, whatever that means." His green eyes bore steadfastly into his cousin's, "They didn't hurt me like that, and Mer, I'm not afraid – even if they try anything – I won't be frightened, because you're here and I'm going to take care of you."

Merry leaned against Pippin and closed his eyes, "Yes my Pip, I'm not frightened either, because I know you'll look after me."

"Nothing can harm us Mer," Pippin whispered, "Not if we're together and even if we're apart, I'll still have you in my heart and in my spirit – you and Umum."

"Quiet you fugging scum!" A rough orc voice bellowed above them, "No talking," and a large foot kicked out at them both, catching Pippin in the belly.

"Don't be afraid Merry," Pippin whispered it so quietly now, even the orc standing above couldn't hear, "I'll take care of you forever and ever and ever! I'll never be afraid again as long as we're together!"

THE END

This has been a Kookaburra/Llinos Production

Last Chat for this story…

Lady Greenleaf2: wow... I mean...wow... awesome! please keep this going.. I must read more!  
Llinos: Oh dear now I feel bad that this is the last chapter. So sorry.  
Kookaburra: Who knows- maybe we should do a sequel!

Baylor: You've tied up a lot of pieces to this puzzle in this chapter, but there are still some things that need to be settled. Don't make us wait so long this time!  
Llinos: Ah and that's the last time you can say that! Except I think we caught all the pieces! We did – didn't we? (looks anxiously around for spare pieces.)  
Kookaburra: (Peeks under the furniture) No, Llinos, I think we got all of them!

Oliversqurl: This is such a wonderful story. I love it... please keep going.  
Llinos: I'm afraid that's it. Now I feel really bad!  
Kookaburra: Then we'll definitely have to collaborate on another story in the future!

Assena: Aw yay! I knew they'd figure out a way! I knew it'd work out all right. grin  
Llinos: Hey – I wish you'd told me that – I was really worried.

Coriandra: and what's going to happen with the Ring.  
Llinos: I guess you'll just have to read the Professor's version to find that out.

LadyoftheLlamas: "Be one with me, my little friends, be one within my mind…"  
Is it just me, or does that sound a little cultish?  
Llinos: Well there are only so many ways to talk to people inside your mind. "Oh hello! Do come in, have a seat, no not that one, that's the hypothalamus… er, nice weather, would you like a cup of tea? Oh dear you've stepped in the grey matter, never mind." You see, better to keep it cultish really.  
Kookaburra: You've found us out. We're really a pair of Scientologists sending out subliminal messages through fanfiction. Now, stare at the shiny watch... you're getting sleeeeeeepy....

Amy2: Looks like there may only be a few more chapters... :( I don't want to see this one end. I like the nice long chapters though :)  
Llinos: Sorry just this one – everyone's making me feel so guilty!

Shirebound: And what a hopeful, courageous, wonderful chapter.  
Llinos: Thanks Shirebound  
Kookaburra: Thanks for sticking with this story from the beginning.

Hai Took: I am still quite concerned over who will be taking the Ring from here! I think that everyone needs to apologize to Merry! At least the hobbits need to not be so tense with each other! looking forward to more!  
Llinos: Think we got it sorted out now – just as well as there is no more.

Sam ): My favorite part had to be when Strider was saying sorry to Merry or when Pippin saw Merry in the Mirror and went to find him. That almost made me cry and that would be bad. :)  
Llinos: Oh it's not too bad. Only don't cry now we've finished.

Pipwise Brandygin: overwhelmed by all the hobbity love I cried all the way through this chapter but you left me feeling very happy rather than heartbroken, so thank you! This was an amazing resolution to all their hurt and loneliness, what a beautiful and brave thing to do. I'm so glad that by sharing what happened Pippin now knows that he was still brave and loved and Merry has also now done what he needed to do, to be there for Pippin when he most needed him. I think this was the best chapter yet, it was really wonderful.  
Llinos: Thanks for that! It was originally intended to be the last chapter, but there were still some loose ends to tie up.

Samwise The Strong Hello: So Pippin finally got that load off his chest. That's good. Sharing is indeed good for the soul, It has been for mine, and I've been through some tough shit. Then again, haven't we all.  
Llinos: Yes and isn't it easier when it's shared.

pipinheart: A long wait but well worth it. I really like this fic, it's great! You are very talented... Hope to see the update soon...  
Llinos: Well the best I can offer now is for you to read the other stuff Paula and I are writing, although not together. Unless you count our RP game on Lord of the Slashed. She plays Sam and I play Merry.

Pipkin Sweetgrass: Had I not read your story, The Bee Charmer may not have ever been written. So this is to officially thank you for writing this story,  
Llinos: Well it's wonderful to know that we inspired other fic so thank you for the thank yous.  
Kookaburra: Yes- it's really nice to know that a scenario we've created was good enough to make other people create more.

Scarlet Angel4: Oh, the cleverness of you! Is amazed at the wonderful twist you brought in  
Llinos: Glad you liked it – although it wasn't too difficult to persuade Pip to change his mind and that Galadriel is such a tease.  
Scarlet Angel4: "cough, cough" recaptured "cough, cough" Smiles  
Llinos: Umm, yes – I still have East Gate to make excuses with but, yes will get on with it (embarrassed blush).

Pearl Took: What a wonderful lesson both Merry and Pippin have learned. Sorrow shared is half the sorrow. Joy shared is double the joy. Well done!  
Llinos: Beautifully summed up!

Agent Pip: thank you for writing another chap, Pippins free from pain now! whoohoo!  
Llinos: Yes we were all relieved – the poor dear has suffered enough!

Epilogue

Llinos looks surreptitiously around, "Is that it Kooks? Are we done? Can I go now."

Kooks looks up in surprise, "Yes I think we just about tied it all up, all the characters are back on track now as if nothing had happened."

Llinos scratches head, "How can you say that? I mean Icy is pregnant, Pippin and Merry are exhausted, goodness knows how the others are feeling."

Kooks shrugs in resignation, "I know, but you can't do everything, I have to go and write Hubris and you need to get on with East Gate and Recaptured, to say nothing of our RP game. Maybe we'll come back this way sometime and see how the pups are getting on."

"Fair enough," Llinos gives Kooks a big hug, "But it's been great writing with you and shouldn't we thank all the nice people who have read and reviewed?"

Kooks untangles herself from hug, "Oh yes, thank you everybody, it's been great having you."

Llinos frowns, "Was that the best choice of word there Kooks?"

"Oh don't you start or I'll get Marigold to bring the stick over." Kooks wags finger warningly, "You wouldn't want to get our conversation beta'd."

Llinos looks warily around again, "No, but let's give a big thank you to Marigold for the beta while we're at it."

"Oh yes," Kooks nodded emphatically, "Thanks Marigold – great beta, we appreciate it."

"Okay Kooks, both together now!" The two writers join hands and shout as loudly as they can, "THANK YOU EVERYONE – YOU'VE BEEN GREAT!"

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